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A CONTINENTAL 
DOLLAR 

















































A CONTINENTAL 

DOLLAR 


BY 

EMILIE BENSON KNIPE 

AND 

ALDEN ARTHUR KNIPE 

Author of “The Luck of Denewood,” “Beatrice of 
Denewood,” “Peg o’ the Ring,” etc., etc. 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

EMILIE BENSON KNIPE 




THE CENTURY CO. 
New York and London 
1923 





Copyright, 1922, 1923, by 

The Century Co. 


» 

% € * 


y*T 


PRINTED IN U. S. A. 






CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I June, 1777.3 

II His Excellency Insists. 22 

III A Prisoner of War. 33 

IV A New Use for an Old Tray .... 48 

V A Continental Dollar. 63 

VI My Rag Doll Goes a-Traveling ... 83 

VII I Meet a French Gentleman .... 96 

VIII Two in a Mirror. 113 

IX I Lose a Doll and a Friend . . . .129 

X Bread and Water.141 

XI A Deaf-and-dumb Boy.155 

XII I Find a Welcome. 170 

XIII Madame Roberts Steps In. 186 

XIV Uncle John Speaks Up. 201 

XV Winter Passes into Spring .... 216 

XVI Trapped.232 

XVII The Major Goes a-Hunting .... 245 

XVIII Wilkinson Brings Bad News .... 261 










CONTENTS 


chapter page 

XIX A Tea-party. 278 

XX From A to Z.. . . 295 

XXI The Clash of Swords. 309 

XXII I Cross the Ferry ....... 330 

XXIII Sir William Speaks. 340 

XXIV E Pluribus Unum . 357 








LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


On the threshold I hesitated a moment . . Frontispiece * 

. FACING 

PAGE 


“We're exactly alike—we’re like sisters—twin 

sisters!”.126 

“Behold,” said Lafayette, “I am a major-general in 

the army of America!”.152 

“Nay, Sir William, no one told me you wished me to 

stay”. 356 > 



















A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 





A Continental Dollar 


CHAPTER I 

JUNE, 1777 

I T was old Hesper’s baying that wakened me, 
and there was a menace in the hound’s mourn¬ 
ful cry that set my heart to doubling its beat. I 
sprang from my bed and, running to the win¬ 
dow, looked forth anxiously. 

The night was dark and hot and still. There 
was no moon, and the stars, albeit faintly visi¬ 
ble, were half hidden by a haze that rose from the 
parched ground. Athwart the driveway, front¬ 
ing the wide entrance to the house, lay a broad 
patch of light that streamed forth from the case¬ 
ment of father’s study on the first floor. I was 
surprised that the candles still burned there, hav¬ 
ing the feeling that I had been abed many hours; 
but at that moment the tall clock in the hallway 
began to strike and I counted only nine ere it 
was silent. 


3 




A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


Hard upon the final stroke, three horsemen came 
to a stop below, and, at the same instant, Father 
stepped out upon the portico to welcome them. 
There was a whispered murmur of greeting 
pitched in so low a key that I could not hear the 
words, a clatter of accoutrements as the three 
dismounted, and then I saw two gentlemen in 
Continental uniforms pass with my father across 
the square patch of light and disappear into the 
house. Dimly outlined, the three horses stood 
with lowered heads, and in front of them, a 
trooper who, I doubted not, had been left to guard 
them. 

For a space I looked out into the night, won¬ 
dering who these visitors might be. The mo¬ 
mentary glimpse I had of them showed one of 
the bigness of my father, so that, save for the 
uniform he wore, I should scarce have been able 
to tell them apart in the gloom. The second bore 
his mare youthful figure erect and soldierly, but 
lacked nigh a hand’s-breadth of the height of 
the other two. Of their features I could see 
naught, yet was I certain they were stran¬ 
gers. 

Now this fact puzzled me, for it was evident 

4 


JUNE, 1777 

that the visit was expected. Why then, I asked 
myself, had no word of their coming been given 
to me? To be sure I was but a girl of fifteen 
years, nevertheless it was not my father's way to 
keep aught from me, since I stood to him some¬ 
what in the place of my mother, who had died ere 
I could remember her. Upon my shoulders were 
the responsibilities of the household, and I was ex¬ 
pected to maintain the open-handed hospitality 
in which we Abbotts of New Jersey took a par¬ 
donable pride. Neither friend nor stranger came 
to Springhill who was not made welcome with an 
offer of the best our larder contained. 

With this duty we owed all visitors foremost 
in my thoughts, I was soon dressed and in the 
kitchen, and busy with the preparation of a tray 
of food and drink to fortify our guests ere they 
took to the road again, or ready to prepare their 
sleeping-quarters if so be they were minded to 
pass the night. In ordinary circumstances I 
should have roused Susan, our black waiting- 
maid; but, seeing that there was somewhat of 
secrecy in this matter, I resolved to attend to it 
myself. Indeed it did occur to me that, mayhap, 
I should have been wise to go back to my bed 

5 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


and forget that aught had occurred to disturb 
my slumbers; but past experience had taught me 
that soldiers were ever hungry; and though I 
confess that my curiosity was sharpened, it was, 
in truth, not wholly curiosity that set my fingers 
busy with the edibles. 

I had noted a distinguished bearing in the 
taller of our visitors, and that stirred me to take 
extra pains in the preparation of a fitting colla¬ 
tion; but the war had wrought such sad havoc 
in our stores that I had but a limited choice. 
Nevertheless, besides white bread and fresh but¬ 
ter, there was cold meat a plenty, little cakes of 
my own baking, and sound wine of good vint¬ 
age which, together with sundry knickknacks, 
would make up a meal of which I need not be 
ashamed. 

I was intent upon my task and had picked up 
a lighted candle, meaning to go into the buttery 
for a knife to cut the bread, when the sharp click 
of a lifted latch startled me. The sound came 
from a door at my back, which gave directly into 
the drying-yard, and for an instant I stood trans¬ 
fixed. There was no particular reason for me 

6 


JUNE, 1777 

to be affrighted. It might easily be one of the 
black servants, who, seeing a light in the kitchen, 
had come to investigate the cause of it. Nor 
was I a timid girl, ready to be set trembling by a 
shadow; yet, for some unexplainable reason, this 
sudden click of the latch held me breathless for 
the time, and I waited immovable to hear the in¬ 
truder enter. 

But nothing happened. No further sound 
broke the silence, inside or out. I stood motion¬ 
less for what seemed a long time, then, in a sort 
of panic, turned to confront a vaguely suspected 
spy, but the door was tight shut. No one had 
come in and I began to doubt that I had heard 
the latch lift, when, of a sudden, my eyes fur¬ 
nished sure proof that my ears had not deceived 
me. The latch was still lifted! There was some 
one, or something, on the other side. As I 
watched, the door silently began to swing inward, 
and my heart gave a great thump. 

From where I stood the door panels were be¬ 
tween me and whatever was outside, and gradu¬ 
ally the crack widened to twelve inches or more. 
I held my breath, seized by a nameless terror, and 

7 



A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


waited for—I knew not what to happen. The 
candle in my hand flickered, sending deep, pointed 
shadows to join those in the somber corners of 
the wide room. 

Then I became aware of a hand clutching the 
edge of the door, and slowly, very slowly, a shock 
of red hair appeared from behind it at a height 
of nigh four feet from the floor. I gazed spell¬ 
bound, and presently discerned a pair of twinkling 
blue eyes that rounded in surprise as they met 
mine. An instant later the head and hand had 
disappeared, the door was shut again, and for a 
moment I was fain to wonder if imagination had 
not played a trick upon me. Save for the click 
of the latch, there had been no sound. The entire 

•4 

incident had not consumed thirty seconds, and 
there I stood, my mouth agape, half bewildered 
at the strangeness of the incident, and scarce 
knowing whether or not to cry out for some one 
to catch this mysterious visitor. 

But J held my peace, for suddenly my eye fell 
upon a square of white paper lying on the floor 
just inside the door. Here, at least, was plain 
evidence that my senses had not befooled me, and 
swiftly I crossed and, picking it up, held it to 

8 


on 


JUNE, 1777 

the lignt. A line of printed words showed 
the clean surface and I read as follows: 

There is danger on the Gloucester road to-night. 

“E. P. U.” 

That was all. There was no address. The 
other side was blank and there was naught to 
show from whence it came. The initials E. P. U. 
held no meaning for me, nor was I much im- 
•pressed by the purport of the message. That 
there might be danger on the Gloucester road 
seemed not to touch me at all, and after a mo¬ 
ment's puzzling I laid the warning upon the cup¬ 
board shelf with a shrug of indifference. I 
should, when chance served, speak to Father 
about it; but meanwhile, I had duties to perform, 
and, hastening to get the knife from the buttery, 
I busied myself at my task and was soon ready. 
I picked up the tray, which was nigh beyond my 
strength for heaviness, and with it sought the 
room in which our guests were met. 

I found the door of Father’s study shut, and 
was, perforce, obliged to set down my burden 
on the small table in the hall in order to knock 
for an entrance. A low murmur of voices 
reached my ears as I lifted my hand, but this 

9 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

stopped instantly when my knuckles struck the 
panel. 

“Who is it?” There was a note of surprise in 
Father’s voice as he asked the question. 

“ ’T is Patty, with a tray,” I answered, and 
after a momentary silence he bade me enter. 

I raised the latch and, taking up the tray, 
pushed open the door and went in. Yet on the 
threshold I hesitated an instant. Facing me was 
a man of my father’s age who looked at me with 
so gentle and kindly a smile that I, perforce, 
smiled back. His dress proclaimed him an officer 
in our army, and I judged by the gold epaulettes 
he wore that he held high rank, although I knew 
little of such things. 

“He’s a nice old gentleman and I’m sure he 
likes dogs,” was my thought; and, with that 
comical reflection, I went forward and set down 
my burden beside the lights. 

The gentlemen rose and my father introduced 
me to this visitor. 

“Patty,” he said, “’t is his Excellency, General 
Washington.” 

I turned and curtsied to hide my blushes, for, 
at the mention of that name, I was seized with a 


io 


JUNE, 1777 

fit of confusion and the blood rushed to my 
cheeks. I felt much mortified to think that, even 
to myself, I had commented lightly upon so im¬ 
portant a personage. 

But the gentleman soon put me at my ease. 

“I vow I’m right glad to see you, Mistress 
Patty/’ he cried heartily. “Doubly glad, seeing 
that you bring us food, for I have not broken 
my fast since noon and have been riding hard 
ever since. Come, Travers,” he went on, speaking 
to a young officer who moved out of the shadows 
near the window, “I doubt not you ’ll be pleased 
to greet our hostess. ’T is Lieutenant John 
Travers, my dear,” he continued, addressing me. 
“I brought him with me to show the way.” 

I curtsied to Mr. Travers, of whom I had 
heard, and he spoke me fair, with a frank boy¬ 
ishness that pleased me mightily; but I was 
greatly embarrassed in that I must play hostess 
to his Excellency. So, with scarce a word, I 
busied myself to appease the hunger of our 
guests. 

General Washington and his aide talked lightly 
between their mouthfuls, and greatly pleased me 
with their compliments upon the fare. Then 


11 




A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


Mr. Travers spoke of his cousins, Polly and 
Betty, who lived on the other side of the Haddon- 
field road some ten miles away, and asked me if 
I knew them. 

“Oh yes, a little,” I answered, “but they are so 
—so—” I stopped, fearing to hurt his feelings, 
seeing that what was in my mind to say was by 
no means complimentary to his relatives. 

“So—so—Toryish?” he questioned, his eyes 
sparkling, and I could not help but nod. 
“You ’re right, Miss Patty. They ’re silly chil¬ 
dren, who think of naught but parties and fallals. 
But they are now at a place where there is little 
to sharpen their vanity.” 

“Are they not at home?” I asked in surprise. 

“Nay, they left the Jerseys last winter, fear¬ 
ing Hessians, and since have been at my house 
in Germantown.” He laughed quietly to him¬ 
self, as he added, “There is one at Denewood who 
is little like to tolerate their Tory whims.” 

I asked him if he knew my brother Val who 
served in Mr. Washington’s army, and was 
pleased to learn that he did. 

“Is he well?” I questioned, for I had received 
no news for a long time. 

12 


JUNE, 1777 

“He’s as right as a trivet, Miss Patty,” Mr. 
Travers replied. “I doubt not he would have 
come upon this errand with his Excellency, had 
he not been off on special duty.” 

“I hope you will give him news of us, sir,” I 
said, “and bid him write. He is ever tardy with 
his pen.” 

Mr. Travers promised to do as I begged and we 
talked further, General Washington putting in a 
word now and then, while Mr. Travers was so 
polite as to place Denewood, his home, at my dis¬ 
posal if ever I found myself in that neighbor¬ 
hood; but I had grown aware that all this time 
my father had sat, with deep-wrinkled brow, 
wrapped in thought, and this troubled me, for it 
was not his custom to remain glum before 
guests. His behavior set me to reflecting that 
there must be more in this visit than showed upon 
the surface. The very fact that Mr. Washington 
was there should have warned me that his er¬ 
rand was not like to be a trivial one, although it 
was no new thing to have people of importance 
in the colonies at Springhill. Governor Living¬ 
ston came there frequently, as did also his sons. 
Dr. Franklin and Father had been close friends 

13 



A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


for many years, and, in my earliest recollections, 
his was a familiar figure. Mr. Henry of Vir¬ 
ginia and General Schuyler of New York had 
visited us on more than one occasion; so, al¬ 
though his Excellency became the most eminent 
man in America, he was at that time of no 
greater importance than others whom I had met 
frequently in our own house. 

Moreover, Father was deep in the American 
cause and had given both in money and provisions 
all that he could spare and still keep our house¬ 
hold, with its many dependent servants, clothed 
and fed. Indeed, we had all gladly made sacri¬ 
fices to further the Revolution and stood ready to 
aid again in any manner possible. 

So Father’s strange humor struck me with sur¬ 
prise, and I could not help but puzzle over the 
reason for it. But I was not to be left long in 
doubt. 

“Mr. Abbott,” his Excellency began presently, 
“I regret that circumstances force me to beg you 
for a decision in the matter of which we were 
speaking. But my time is limited and I must 
be upon my way either to Philadelphia or'back 

14 


JUNE, 1777 

to my headquarters, depending upon your an¬ 
swer.” 

Father seemed to rouse himself with an effort 
and the room was very still ere he spoke. 

“Your Excellency,” he said at last, “I need 
not, I think, defend myself against a charge of 
indifference to the patriot cause, and I am deeply 
sensible of the trust you have shown in selecting 
me for so important a task; but I fear I can not 
undertake the mission you propose.” 

I was gazing straight at Father as he talked, 
and so solemn and serious was the tone in which 
he spoke that I realized that some weighty judg¬ 
ment hung in the balance. As he finished, Mr. 
Travers turned with a swift gesture which 
seemed to show disappointment. But Mr. Wash¬ 
ington nodded his head slowly up and down as if 
he guessed what was passing in Father's 
thoughts. And when he spoke, there was no 
hint of aught but kindliness and considera¬ 
tion. 

“I am not greatly surprised at your answer, 
Mr. Abbott,” he said, with deliberation. “And 
yet I am not one to give up easily that upon which 

15 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


I have set my heart. Your refusal is not a per¬ 
sonal matter ?” 

“In truth, it is not of myself I am thinking, 
your Excellency,” Father replied. 

“Of that I am well assured,” General Wash¬ 
ington continued; “therefore I conclude that your 
decision is based upon consideration for some 
one else—for Mistress Patty, here, if I mistake 
not.” 

“You have hit the nail on the head,” Father 
answered. “I owe much to my* country, which 
I am ready and anxious to serve; but I also have 
a duty to my daughter.” 

“But, Father,” I broke in, “what is it? I 
would not keep you from aught that would serve 
General Washington.” 

“ ’T is not a question for you to decide, 
Patty,” he replied. 

“Of that I am not so sure,” Mr. Washington 
remarked with a .smile. “I think, Mr. Abbott,” 
he went on more soberly, “that you may per¬ 
chance exaggerate the difficulties. Surely there 
is some one with whom you can trust Mistress 
Patty?” 

These words could have but one meaning, and 

16 


JUNE, 1777 

I turned with a startled glance to General Wash¬ 
ington. 

"Is it that you wish Father to go away?” I 
asked. 

"Yes, to France,” he answered. "I have 
somewhat to say to Dr. Franklin, who is in Paris, 
and, seeing that I can not go myself, I want your 
father to say it for me. ? T is of extremest im¬ 
portance, and I am put to it to find one who can 
be spared here and yet has the substance and un¬ 
derstanding to make plain to Dr. Franklin what 
our exact condition is. Moreover, the affair must 
be kept most secret, and there are very few whom 
I can trust whose absence would not cause com¬ 
ment.” 

Mr. Washington spoke in so earnest a tone that 
I could not help but be impressed with the im¬ 
portance he attached to this mission. And of 
a surety, Father must not be held back on my ac¬ 
count, though there was a tug at my heart when 
I understood that he would cross the ocean and 
that many weeks would pass ere I could know of 
so much as his safe arrival. The separation 
would be no easy thing to bear, for circumstances 
had wrought a bond between us not quite usual 

17 





A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


between father and daughter. Rather was he like 
an elder brother to Val and me, one in whom we 
could confide without restraint, and with whom 
we discussed all that had to do with our daily 
lives. It would be no light sacrifice to urge him 
to go; yet I knew that his own inclinations set 
in the way of his duty to his country, and I were 
no patriot were I to do aught to hold him back. 

“Father,” I said, crossing the room to where 
he sat, “I think you must do as General Wash¬ 
ington asks. You need not worry about me.” 
He shook his head stubbornly. “Nay, Father, 
but you must go,” I insisted. “I shall be quite 
safe, and Wilkinson will be here to care for 
Springhill.” I thought to hearten him by nam¬ 
ing our overseer. 

“I do not trust the man,” Father answered, to 
my vast surprise. 

“Not trust him?” I questioned. “Surely he 
is a most honest man, and—” 

“ ? T is not his honesty I doubt,” Father in¬ 
terrupted, “but he itches to be fighting. He longs 
to join the army. Nor should I, in conscience, 
hold him back. And were he to go, you would be 
left alone with naught but a retinue of black serv- 

18 


JUNE, 1777 

ants, who, when need arose, would be worse than 
useless.” 

“But what is there to fear?” I asked. 

“Hessians!” He snapped out the word that 
filled us all with dread. “They overran the 
Jerseys last year, and I doubt if even his Ex¬ 
cellency will guarantee that they will not do the 
like again.” 

“Nay, I can not undertake any such guaran¬ 
tee,” said General Washington. “In truth, I 
think it more than probable they will try to cross 
the Jerseys at no distant date.” 

“Exactly!” Father exclaimed. “I can not be 
censured for refusing to leave my daughter at the 
mercy of King George’s mercenaries.” 

“But is there not an alternative, sir?” the gen¬ 
eral asked. “Am I mistaken in seeming to recol¬ 
lect that you have a siste'r in Philadelphia, Mr. 
Abbott?” 

“I have,” Father replied shortly, “but Patty 
would scarce care to go there.” 

Now this was true enough. My Aunt 
Augusta Roberts maintained a vastly fashionable 
establishment in the city, and a simple country 
girl, such as I, could not look with any special 

19 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


pleasure on becoming a member of her household. 
Nor was that all. The Roberts were Toryish 
folk who boasted of their loyalty to King George 
and said our revolution was but an uprising of 
common people who had naught at stake. 
Father was quite right when he thought I should 
not like to go there; but here was no time for my 
likes or dislikes. I was ready to do more than 
that if need arose. 

“Indeed, Father,” I told him, with all the 
earnestness I could command, “I can go to Aunt 
Augusta if it will ease your anxiety at leaving 
me. 

“Nay!” exclaimed Father, with great positive¬ 
ness. “I know your Aunt Augusta better than 
you do, my child, and I am not minded to place 
you under obligation to her.” 

There was that in Father’s manner which made 
me certain that further argument would be use¬ 
less, and for a moment or two no one spoke. 
Then, as if he, too, had arrived at a similar con¬ 
clusion, General Washington rose briskly to his 
feet. 

“ ’T is a regret to me, Mr. Abbott,” he said; 
then, turning to his aide, “Travers, we must on 


20 


JUNE, 1777 

to Philadelphia by the Gloucester road without 
delay. See to—” 

Completely forgetting my manners, I inter¬ 
rupted him abruptly. 

“Oh, your Excellency!” I cried. “You can’t 
go to Philadelphia to-night. There is danger on 
the Gloucester road!” 


21 



CHAPTER II 

HIS EXCELLENCY INSISTS 

W ITHOUT waiting to note the effect of my 
words, I ran out of the room to fetch the 
strange warning that had been so mysteriously 
delivered. General Washington's mention of the 
Gloucester road had reminded me of it, and now 
its explanation seemed plain enough. It had been 
meant not for us, but for our distinguished visi¬ 
tor, and its importance could hardly be exagger¬ 
ated. Any danger that might threaten his Ex¬ 
cellency was more than a danger to an individual. 
Were aught to happen to our commander-in¬ 
chief, the cause of liberty in America would be 
seriously jeopardized. It needed no lengthy con¬ 
sideration to reach that conclusion. 

I was back in the study in a moment, a little 
breathless with my haste and anxiety. Without 
a word, I handed the paper to Mr. Washington, 
and he read the message at a glance. 

“How came you by this, Mistress?” he asked. 


22 


HIS EXCELLENCY INSISTS 


I explained to him as briefly as I might, and, 
indeed, there was little to tell. At the end he 
shook his head and laughed softly to him¬ 
self. 

“ ’T is the third time such a warning hath 
reached me/' he remarked musingly; and then, 
for the benefit of Mr. Travers and Father, he 
read aloud, “ ‘There is danger on the Gloucester 
road to-night. E. P. U.’ ” 

“Another Tory plot!” Mr. Travers burst out 
angrily. “I would that Lieutenant Allan Mc- 
Lane were here with his troop to search that same 
Gloucester road.” 

“Is this message to be taken seriously?” Father 
asked, frankly incredulous. 

“I hold it is. Aye, without a doubt it is to be 
taken seriously,” came Mr. Washington’s calm 
reply. “As I said, this is the third such I have 
received. The first brought word of a plot 
against my life, and so accurate was the in¬ 
formation that a man was hanged in consequence. 
The other warned me of General Howe’s pro¬ 
posed attack on our position at Middle Brook. It 
gave us two days to prepare, and the enemy found 
us so ready that they decided not to fight. Yes, 

23 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


Mr. Abbott, the message is to be taken quite 
seriously.” 

“It must come from one wise in the councils of 
the British,” Father murmured, half to himself. 
“Does your Excellency know what the letters E. 
P. U. signify?” 

“Nay, I have no notion as to that, unless it be 
that they are initials of a name,” General Wash¬ 
ington answered. “The previous warnings ap¬ 
peared still more mysteriously than this. One 
was found on Mr. Hamilton’s desk. The other, 
on my own bed. How they came there we never 
discovered, although discreet inquiries were 
made. At headquarters we were forced to con¬ 
fess ourselves puzzled.” 

“Mistress Patty saw the man, your Excel¬ 
lency!” cried Mr. Travers, rather excitedly. 
“What was he like?” he questioned, turning to 
me. 

“That I know not, save that he had red hair 
and blue eyes,” I answered. “Also he seemed 
short,” I added as an afterthought. 

“How could you measure him?” Father asked. 

“From the place where his head appeared 
around the door,” I explained. “It stood not 

24 


HIS EXCELLENCY INSISTS 


above that,” I went on, holding out my hand 
somewhat above my waist. 

“That would scarce signify aught,” said Mr. 
Washington. “The man might be full tall, and 
but chanced to stoop as he peered into the 
room.” 

“I would that you had called out!” Mr. Trav¬ 
ers exclaimed. “I should like to have caught the 
fellow and put an end to his mysteries.” 

“And at the same time put an end to his warn¬ 
ings?” his Excellency protested. “That would 
scarce serve our purpose. Nay, whoever the 
man is, he does well to conceal his identity. His 
risk is increased with each person who knows 
him, be they friend or foe.” 

“And I warrant he takes no small risk in these 
undertakings,” Father remarked. 

“Of that there is no doubt,” the general agreed. 
“He must be close to the secret councils of the 
British.” 

“And as close to ours, seeing that he knew you 
were coming here to-night, your Excellency,” 
Mr. Travers suggested. “Scarce half a dozen 
people knew of it, including Mr. Abbott and his 
daughter.” 


25 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“Nay, I knew naught of it until after your 
arrival,” I put in. 

“I did not even inform Patty of the visit, re¬ 
specting your wish to keep the matter secret,” 
Father said, addressing the general. 

“Then this mysterious stranger must have in¬ 
formation of what goes on at headquarters,” Mr. 
Travers declared. 

“That is by no means proved,” Mr. Washing¬ 
ton replied. “There are those in Philadelphia 
who knew of my projected visit to that city. 
That I should go by the Gloucester road was 
a reasonable conjecture. Had this information 
reached the Tories from our headquarters, they 
would have known also that I was coming here, 
in which case they would scarce have waited until 
I reached the Gloucester road. Do you not 
agree, Mr. Abbott?” 

“But, your Excellency, the message was de¬ 
livered here,” Mr. Travers cut in before Father 
could reply. 

“To be sure,” Mr. Washington answered, with 
a smile. “If the warning was to be of any avail, 
it must reach us before the danger threatened. 
I doubt not our good friend was on the watch and 

26 


HIS EXCELLENCY INSISTS 


saw us turn in here. He need not have had 
previous knowledge of our intentions to stop 
on our way to Philadelphia. ” 

“It seems evident to me that this unknown 
patriot obtains his information from British 
sources, and uses it for our benefit,” Father con¬ 
cluded. 

“I have not the least doubt of that,” Mr. 
Washington returned emphatically. “And that 
being so, it will do us no good to pry into the 
secret of his identity. That much settled, it only 
remains for us to say good-by, Mr. Abbott, and 
take our way to Philadelphia by the shortest pos¬ 
sible route.” 

He held out his hand to Father. 

“Nay, your Excellency!” exclaimed Father, 
drawing back, “the shortest route is by the Glou¬ 
cester road. You can not go that way after this 
warning. It would be madness!” 

“Nevertheless, I am forced to run the risk.” 
His Excellency spoke with grave determination. 
“It is essential that I secure a gentleman whom I 
can trust to carry my message to Dr. Franklin. 
Failing you, sir, I have no alternative but to seek 
a representative in Philadelphia.” 

27 





A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“Is the matter so urgent?” I cried. “Surely 
a day or two can make no great difference.” 

“It is of the extremest urgency, Mistress Patty. 
It must be determined to-night. Mr. Travers 
has a vessel sailing on the early morning tide. 
Lord Howe’s fleet is in New York Bay preparing 
to set out. We may find the Delaware blocked 
any day now.” 

“But your Excellency!” Mr. Travers burst out, 
“naught else can be so important as your safety. 
A dozen of these pesky Tories might capture us 
and have you at South Amboy ere daylight. 
Wait here, and let me go for an escort.” 

I have since thought that General Washington 
was more than usually patient with Mr. Travers, 
for I learned later that it was not his custom to 
parley with his aides. And it has occurred to 
me that his patience was prompted by a desire 
he still entertained to have Father undertake the 
mission and that he saw in this controversy a 
chance to win his way and so was willing that the 
risk should not be minimized. Perchance I do 
his Excellency an injustice by such thoughts, for, 
whatever may have been in his mind, he showed 
only an inflexible determination to brave such 

28 


HIS EXCELLENCY INSISTS 


dangers as lurked upon the way, and replied 
persistently to both Mr. Travers and to Father 
that the importance of securing some one to 
represent him in France was so great that he 
must on to Philadelphia, no matter what the 
menace. 

“Gentlemen,” he said, finally, “an open treaty 
with France and a loan of money to support our 
army are so essential to our cause that I hold no 
hazard too great to win a speedy granting of our 
needs. Dr. Franklin must be warned of our ex¬ 
tremity, and, to that end, I am determined to 
start an envoy on the way to him this very night.” 

“Your Excellency,” I said, after the moment’s 
silence which greeted this statement, “is there 
naught can keep you from the Gloucester road 
to-night?” 

He paused an instant before replying, look¬ 
ing at me with grave and gentle eyes. 

“Mistress Patty,” he said, “there are times 
when circumstances make it impossible for us 
to follow the promptings of our hearts, and, no 
matter how much suffering we may inflict, we 
must not stay our hands if the cause for which 
we fight is to be won. There is but one way to 

29 




A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

prevent my attempting to reach Philadelphia to¬ 
night." 

I took his meaning without further words and 
turned to Father. 

“You must go to France!" I declared. 

He nodded, knowing, as I did, that nothing else 
would alter the general’s determination. Indeed, 
he understood better than I the importance of 
this mission to France and the necessity of win¬ 
ning the people of that country to our side; so 
that he had a greater appreciation of the reasons 
underlying Mr. Washington’s stubborn insis¬ 
tence. But it was enough for me to realize that 
to risk the general’s capture was not to be thought 
of. 

“You must go, Father," I replied. “Do not 
worry about me." 

And he no longer opposed me. 

Once the decision was made, no time was lost 
in preparation. At Mr. Washington’s suggestion, 
for fear of some news of the expedition might 
leak out, the servants were not called, and I pre¬ 
pared Father's traveling-bags while he had a final 
conference with his Excellency. When I re¬ 
turned to the study, Mr. Travers was explaining 

30 


HIS EXCELLENCY INSISTS 


where his vessel, the Saucy Sally , would be found, 
and I heard mention of a Captain Timmons who 
was in charge of her. I saw his Excellency give 
Father a set of papers, with the warning that it 
would be ill fortune should they fall into the 
hands of the British. 

“I 'll see to it that no hostile eye reads them,” 
Father answered, and then went off to saddle 
Bess, his favorite riding-horse, and, in all too 
few minutes, he was back, ready for the journey. 

Then it was that my heart suddenly misgave 
me and great tears welled up into my eyes. 
Luckily, we were out of doors and none could see 
me, but my voice must have betrayed what I was 
feeling, for Mr. Washington said some kind 
words, which I have heedlessly forgotten, and 
Mr. Travers again reminded me that at his house 
in Germantown I should always find a welcome. 

“Go to your Aunt Augusta, my dear,” Father 
told me at last. “I shall feel more comfortable, 
knowing you are with her.” 

“Yes, Father,” was all that I could answer. 

He kissed me once more, and a moment or so 
later he, with the others, had disappeared into the 
night. They were to separate at the cross-roads, 

3i 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


the general to ride north, while Father went on 
alone to Philadelphia. 

I stood a moment or two listening to the thud 
of hoof-beats on the dry road. Then I went back 
into the house, locking the casement behind me. 
I felt very lonely and had a desire to be off to 
my room, where I could let my tears fall freely. 
Many things might happen before I saw Father 
again, and— 

I was stooping over one of the candles to blow 
it out, when the sound of a distant musket-shot 
brought me upstanding with a jerk. At the same 
moment Hesper lifted his voice in a mournful 
warning that chilled my heart. 


32 


CHAPTER III 

A PRISONER OF WAR 


T HAT first musket-shot, which startled me 
and set the old hound to baying, was fol¬ 
lowed immediately by a dozen or more similar 
reports, and I could plainly hear the shouts of 
men. There was no room in my mind for doubt 
as to where the noises came from. It was plain 
that there had been a meeting at the cross-roads 
between the little party that had just left and 
some enemy whose identity it was only too easy 
to guess. The Tory band, of whom we had been 
warned, tiring of waiting on the Gloucester road, 
had set out to seek their victim. 

The sound of a door opening made me jump, 
with an outcry of dismay. Turning, I found 
Jinny, my waiting-maid, standing at the thresh¬ 
old, wide-eyed with surprise and fear. 

“Land sakes, Miss Patty, what ’s goin’ on in 
this here house? I’m plum scared—’deed I is!” 
In truth, she looked it, and came toward me 

33 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


timorously, glancing this way and that as if ex¬ 
pecting to be pounced upon by something lurking 
in the corners. 

“Oh, Jinny!” I cried, running to her, “I fear 
something has happened to the master. Did n’t 
you hear the shots ?” 

“Yes’m, I did; but it’s that hound dog what 
upsets me mos’. He has the dreadfulest and 
creepiest bark, like he done see a ghost wherever 
he look. I don’t like that Hesper dog, nohow!” 

It was evident that Jinny was more concerned 
with imaginary horrors than with the realities 
which quickened my heart-beats. There was lit¬ 
tle comfort to be got from her, and for the next 
few minutes I paid scant heed to her murmur- 
ings. It was true, as Father had said, that in an 
emergency our blacks would be of little use. 

But I was in two minds what to do. My first 
impulse was to run to the cross-roads to find out 
for certain what had happened. It needed not 
a great deal of imagination upon my part to pic¬ 
ture Father, dead or wounded, lying in a deserted 
ditch. I knew full well that he would fight to 

save General Washington, and I had no doubt 

> 

that, whatever the odds, there would be a brisk 

34 


A PRISONER OF WAR 


battle. But I scarce dared think of the outcome, 
knowing that there were but four in our party. 

I had about made up my mind to summon Wil¬ 
kinson, and with him explore the road, when 
there came the rush of galloping horses to the rat¬ 
tling accompaniment of jingling swords. From 
the sounds, I judged that there must be at least 
a dozen intruders, and they made no effort to con¬ 
ceal their presence. There were shouted orders 
as they came to a halt, the noise of stamping 
horses, and the harsh admonitions of those who 
rode them. 

I stood by the table, motionless. It was as if 
I had been stricken with immobility, as I waited 
for I knew not what. 

Suddenly there was a step upon the porch and 
a voice called out, “Hello, in there! Open the 
casement, please \” 

I turned and saw, framed in the window, a 
British officer in the uniform I knew so well. In 
his arms he carried a brother officer, whose limp 
form and hanging limbs showed plainly that he 
had been sore hurt. I hurried forward to un¬ 
lock the fastenings, and in another moment the 
man entered and laid his burden on the sofa. 

35 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“I’m sorry to come upon you thus unceremoni¬ 
ously, Mistress/' the officer said with a smile, 
“but his lordship here hath been scratched, and 
I must patch him up as best I can ere we go on. 
I saw a light in the window and took the liberty 
of calling." He ended with a laugh and seemed 
in the gayest of humors; but I, looking down at 
the white face of the young man on the sofa, felt 
no inclination to levity. 

“Make haste, Jinny, and set water to heat at 
once," I cried, taking the girl by the arm and 
pushing her through the door in the direction of 
the kitchen. “Hurry now," I admonished, and 
ran myself to the medicine closet for bandages 
and lint. 

I did not return to the study until the water 
was ready; then, bidding Jinny carry it in, I 
went back, to find matters quite as I had left 
them. 

With a muttered word of thanks, the unin¬ 
jured officer set to work, with deft and practised 
touch, so that the wounded man was soon bathed 
of the blood upon his face and his head neatly 
bandaged. As the operation was finished the pa¬ 
tient opened his eyes, gave a queer little squeak, 

36 


A PRISONER OF WAR 


and sat up briskly, gazing around him with a 
puzzled look on his face. 

“Egad!” he cried, in a high-pitched, girlish 
voice, “plague me, but I Ve a beastly headache!” 
Then, apparently, he caught sight of me for the 
first time and fumbled about to find a quizzing- 
glass, through which he surveyed me up and 
down for an instant. “ Ton my soul! am I 
dreaming?” 

“Nay, Algernon, my buck, you 're not dream¬ 
ing. You 're as right as rain, save for a notch in 
that tough skull of yours,” said his companion, 
standing off and viewing his compatriot with a 
boyish grin. 

Neither of the two men could have been many 
years past twenty; and though they were British 
officers and my bitter enemies, still must I credit 
them with every courtesy toward me, both as to 
their speech and manner. 

The young man called Algernon rose a trifle 
unsteadily to his feet and gave me a polite bow. 
“Sure, I could swear we Ve met, somewhere,” he 
said. “I*m not one to forget so fair a face, 
Miss.” 

“Nay, I think not,” I answered. “I am Patty 

37 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

Abbott, sir, and live here in Haddonfield.” 

He shook his head vigorously and with the ac¬ 
tion evidently stirred the pain in it, for he put his 
hand up and gave a most comical grimace. 

“Plague me, but my brains rattle as if they 
were loose!” He turned to his companion. “Art 
sure I lost none of them?” he asked anxiously. 

“I would not be sure, Algernon,” the other an¬ 
swered, “although I would count the enemy clever 
to have found them. But your manners are clean 
gone. You must thank Miss Abbott, for ’t is 
her bandages that are holding your brains to¬ 
gether this minute.” 

“Your pardon!” the other cried, with another 
bow. “I thank you with all my heart for being 
so charitable to a poor soldier with a battered 
head, and one who is a stranger to you. May 
I be permitted to name us to you, ma'am?” 

I could do no less than curtsy, for, with all 
their levity, these two gentlemen were properly 
respectful and I could not but feel safe in their 
presence, despite the fact that I despised their 
red coats. 

“My friend here,” he who was called Algernon 
went on, with an airy wave of his hand toward 

38 


A PRISONER OF WAR 


his companion, “is Major Tarlton, of his 
Majesty’s Light Dragoons, and I am Algernon, 
Lord Fairbrook, attached to his Majesty’s forces 
in New York, and very much at your service, 
Mistress Abbott.” 

The major bowed elaborately, while his lord- 
ship, with a mincing step, drew back and bent 
almost double, only to straighten up again with 
a cry of pain as the blood rushed to his poor 
head. 

“Nay now, Algernon,” cried the major, “thy 
deportment will be thy death an thou hast not a 
care! Sit down, man, for five minutes to gather 
thy wits, and then we must on with our distin¬ 
guished prisoner.” 

At his words my heart gave a great bound. 
It was plain that they had captured our com¬ 
mander, but what had happened to Father and 
Mr. Travers? I was on the point of asking, 
when Major Tarlton spied the tray upon which 
were the remains of the supper I had set out. 

“Egad, food!” he shouted, and made for the 
table as if he were half starved. 

“Where?” cried Lord Algernon, leaping to his 
feet, and together they fell upon the broken 

39 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


viands as if, indeed, they were in extremity. 
After a moment they turned toward me, each 
holding a huge piece of buttered bread, and of a 
sudden his lordship’s face fell and he looked at 
me with an expression of chagrin. 

“Your pardon, Mistress,” he said plaintively, 
“this soldier’s life makes perfect clowns and boors 
of us. Here we are eating your food with ne’er so 
much as a ‘by your leave.’ ” 

“The truth is, Miss Patty,” said Major Tarl- 
ton, a slight flush coming into his boyish cheeks, 
“we ’ve not touched food since early morn and 
forgot all our manners at the sight of your good 
fare. Please say pardon us, else we shall—” he 
paused for just an instant and a twinkle came into 
his eye,—“else we shall have to eat without your 
leave,” he ended. 

“At least you are honest,” I returned, not able 
to hide an answering smile; “but indeed you are 
both welcome, if you will only tell me of this ex¬ 
pedition of yours and who is the prisoner you 
spoke of.” 

“Aye, willingly,” replied the major. “Though 
it may not be good news if your ears be 
Whiggish. We have captured your general, and 

40 


A PRISONER OF WAR 


he is at this minute trussed up on a horse out 
there in charge of a dozen troopers. We shall 
have him within the British lines shortly after 
daybreak, and methinks, Mistress Abbott, that 
we have made a fine beginning to end this little 
war your so-called patriots have stirred up for 
us.” 

“But what of the others who were with him?” 
I asked, fearful of the answer. 

“Oh, they were off at top speed,” the major 
answered. “We sent a shot or two after them, 
but I think none were hit. In sooth, we cared 
little about them, having taken the big prize we 
set out to capture.” 

I tried not to show the relief I felt, but I 
breathed easier at this news, though there was 
something about the tale that seemed not quite 
reasonable. ’T was hard to credit that Father 
and Mr. Travers would run away, leaving the 
general in the hands of the British; but I be¬ 
thought me that they must have raced off for 
help, hoping to fetch aid and perhaps intercept 
Major Tarlton and his band of dragoons before 
they reached that part of the Jerseys still friendly 
to our enemies. The more I dwelt upon this 

4i 




A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

idea, the more certain I became that here was an 
explanation which fitted not only with the temper 
of Father and of Mr. Travers, but which showed 
great good sense as well. Had all been taken, or 
wbrse, there would have been none to carry the 
news, whereas now a rescue-party might soon be 
on the way to bring General Washington a chance 
of escape. 

This explanation seemed so plausible that I 
set my mind at work to see if I could not further 
the plan. It should be my task to hold Major 
Tarlton and his men at Sprmghill as long as I 
was able. This would give Father and Mr. 
Travers more time to fetch help, and I began to 
see a hope that Mr. Washington might be saved. 
At any rate, I meant to do what I could, and, 
seeing that my guests were so hungry, I took 
thought of what else might be in the house to 
tempt their appetites. 

Nor had I any doubt that I should find some¬ 
thing; for to judge by their earnest attacks upon 
the food already there, they would not be too 
critical of what was put before them. So I 
picked up the tray and started from the room 
with it, bidding Jinny follow. 

42 , 


A PRISONER OF WAR 


“Egad!” exclaimed his lordship, “you are not 
going to be so cruel as to let us starve, Miss 
Patty?” 

“Nay,” I answered readily, “I but mean to 
replenish the supply, for ’t is not our way at 
Springhill to let any go away hungry.” 

“And a most excellent practice!” I heard Ma¬ 
jor Tarlton cry as I quitted the room. 

In the kitchen I found Wilkinson, brought 
there by the shots and greatly agitated. 

“What is it, Miss?” he questioned anxiously. 

“They have taken General Washington,” I 
told him. “Our only chance is to delay them as 
long as possible. Father and another have gone 
off for help.” 

He was too much stunned by the news even to 
answer, and I, bidding him stay where he was 
in case of need, hastened to replenish the waiter. 

As a matter of fact, there was naught more 
tempting that I could find to add to the variety I 
had already set before General Washington; but 
he and his aide had made sad havoc in the quan¬ 
tity, and this I replenished, taking plenty of time 
to the business and not returning till I heard 
Major Tarlton calling out to me. 

43 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“We must be on our way, Mistress Patty!” 
he exclaimed, when I went back laden with food 
once again. “Indeed, I doubt we should have 
tarried as long as we have. We shall have the 
country roused and at our heels before morning, 
and I am not minded to encounter a rescuing 
party.” 

“But you will satisfy your hunger ere you go,” 
I suggested, and was ably seconded by his lord- 
ship. 

“Trust us for that!” he cried, falling upon the 
viands with a right good will. “And you are 
an excellent and forgiving enemy, Miss Patty, 
to feed us so well, seeing that we have captured 
your Mr. Washington.” 

“Aye, and mean to have him safe within our 
lines, Algernon, so tarry not,” said Major Tarlton. 

They pledged me in a glass of wine and chat¬ 
tered like magpies, seeming to have never a care 
in the world, the while I plied them with such 
things as I had to tempt them with. 

At length, hoping to keep them longer, I made 
a plea that their prisoner be brought in. 

“He must be hungry, too,” I said. “Nor do 
I think it right to keep so exalted a prisoner 

44 


A PRISONER OF WAR 


trussed up, as I heard you say he was. Surely 
9 t is not customary.” 

“Faith and it is not!” Lord Fairbrook agreed. 
“Have him in, Tarlton. I love not treating the 
man like a raw trooper.” 

“He has only himself to blame for his treat¬ 
ment,” the major replied. “He would not give 
his parole, though I begged him to do so. Nay, 
he means to make his escape—an he can.” 

“Well, have him in, anyway. I vow I ’d like 
to see him in the light,” Lord Fairbrook insisted. 

“But we are going in a moment,” Tarlton said; 
and at that I offered my plea, to make any ex¬ 
cuse for delayin’g them. 

“Sure, and you might favor me, Major Tarl¬ 
ton, and at least let me see our general.” 

He took the meaning I had intended to convey. 

“Hast never seen him?” he cried. “Faith, 
’t is no kindness to submit him as a prisoner.” 

“Still I should vastly like to clap eyes on him,” 
I persisted. 

“And so should I,” his lordship put in. “Gad, 
there’s no such haste as you pretend. And 
what’s more, I’d like to have the man unfettered. 
Perchance he will give you his parole, an you 

45 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


ask him again, now that he hath had time to 
cool his hot blood.” 

Major Tarlton was in two minds, I could tell; 
but in the end he gave way to our pleadings and, 
striding to the casement, called into the night. 

“Hello there, Sergeant, bring in your pris¬ 
oner !” 

I gave a sigh of relief, seeing that I had gained 
my point, and then I fell to wondering if in 
some way I might compass the general’s escape. 
Should he remain a prisoner, I realized that as-- 
suredly it would be a bitter blow at our liberty, 
and might be a fatal one. We had other gen¬ 
erals, to be sure, some who would be very glad to 
take Mr. Washington’s place and would hear 
the news of his capture with great complacency. 
But Father had told me more than once that no 
man was so vital to our cause as his Excellency. 
Thus his capture was a most serious matter. 

How his release might be effected I could not 
guess; but a half-formed plan came into my head 
and, excusing myself for a moment, I ran back 
to the kitchen to speak to Wilkinson. He was 
there, seated in a chair, staring gloomily into the 
fire. 


46 


A PRISONER OF WAR 


“Wilkinson/’ I whispered, “go you at once and 
saddle my mare. Then take her to the back door 
and wait till some one comes. It is our only 
chance.” 

He nodded instant comprehension and, without 
a word, went off to do my bidding, while I hurried 
back into the study. 

As I entered the room a sergeant was coming 

through the casement with his prisoner. But 

* 

instead of seeing Mr. Washington, as I had ex¬ 
pected, I looked into the face of my father, who 
returned my look with a smile upon his lips. 


♦ 


47 


CHAPTER IV 

A NEW USE FOR AN OLD TRAY 


T O find Father their prisoner, instead of Gen¬ 
eral Washington, whom I had expected, so 
amazed me that for a moment I knew not whether 
to laugh or cry. There was great reason for re¬ 
joicing in that it was not the commander-in-chief 
of our armies who had been taken; but on the 
other hand, it was no source of pleasure to see my 
father a captive, with his hands bound behind 
his back. And I think this latter consideration 
overcame all others; for, with a gasp of dismay, 
I ran to him. 

“Father F' I cried out, “what has happened 5” 
Though in truth it needed not much thought to 
see how this substitution had come about, and in 
the back of my mind I had already summed up 
the matter—in the dark the British soldiers had 
mistaken him for the general. That was all the 
explanation I needed. 

But at my words the two officers exclaimed in 
surprise. 


48 


NEW USE FOR AN OLD TRAY 


"Egad, we ’ve been tricked!” Lord Algernon 
nigh shouted, his voice piping shrilly. 

"Then 't is you who have tricked us!” Major 
Tarlton burst out; “you told me you had our 
man.” 

"And so I thought,” his companion replied, 
and then turned to Father. “You said you were 
Mr. Washington, sir.” 

"Nay,” replied Father, with a grin, "you ac¬ 
cused me of being Mr. Washington, and I could 
scarce be expected to deny the compliment, in the 
circumstances.” 

" ’Pon my honor, you seemed a thought too 
easily taken,” his lordship replied ruefully. " ’T 
is my beastly luck to catch a sparrow when I go 
hunting eagles.” 

"Sparrows are English birds, sir,” Father re¬ 
torted dryly. "We do not have them in the 
Americas.” 

" 'T is all one,” his lordship murmured, drop¬ 
ping into a chair. “Eve my head broke, and 
naught to show for it.” 

“We'll have a spy to show for it!” Major 
Tarlton said. He had been fuming to himself, 
striding up and down the room the while. "I 

49 




A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


think, sir/’ he went on to Father, “that we found 
you out of uniform in company with the enemies 
of the king.” 

“Seeing that I have no uniform and am not of 
the army, sir,” Father retorted, “your charge of 
spy can hardly be maintained. As to the com¬ 
pany I was in, how can you say they were ene¬ 
mies of the king, not knowing who they were?” 

“We are aware that it was General Washing¬ 
ton,” Major Tarlton replied. “We had advices 
from Philadelphia saying that he would pass over 
the Gloucester road to-night. Who else could it 
have been?” 

“The Gloucester road is a main-traveled high¬ 
way, and many might be abroad upon it,” Father 
replied evenly. “I do not remember saying who 
my companions were.” 

“Nay, you need not,” Major Tarlton retorted. 
“There will be time enough for that when we take 
you to headquarters and see what disposition they 
choose to make of you. I doubt not, an you were 
searched, we’d find plenty of evidence that you 
are far from loyal to King George. But that 
must wait until we reach our lines.” 

Now this remark brought me an added dread. 

50 


NEW USE FOR AN OLD TRAY 

I remembered that General Washington had 
given Father despatches for Dr. Franklin, with 
a caution that they must not fall into the hands 
of the British. Should he be searched, not only 
would these papers be discovered by our enemies, 
but they might, indeed, so involve Father that a 
basis for the charge of spying would be found 
against him with good grounds. 

“Indeed, then you are not fair!” I cried, greatly 
alarmed at this new twist of fate. “Father is 
not a soldier! You have no right to take him.” 

Major Tarlton seemed to lose all his ill-humor 
at this remark, for his frown vanished and he be¬ 
came once more the happy, spirited, boyish youth 
he had appeared before. 

“Fair or not, Miss Patty,” he cried, seating 
himself beside his companion at the table again, 
“I must have something to show for this night’s 
work, and your father must e’en be the victim. 
We were not told that there would be two over¬ 
sized men in the party, and it will not be easy 
to explain unless we have one such to show. 
But do not worry. I doubt not they will send 
him back to you in a day or two.” 

Now this, I knew, suited Father not at all. 

5i 





A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


He had started with despatches for Dr. Franklin 
in Paris. The Saucy Sally would sail on the 
morrow, come what might, and though he should 
be released in a day or two, as Major Tarlton 
had said, this delay would entirely upset his plans 
and might have serious consequences. 

“Sir,” Father said to Major Tarlton, “I beg 
you to reflect that it will not serve you to treat a 
private citizen of the country as you propose to 
treat me. I have important business in Phila¬ 
delphia which will brook no delay, and I must de¬ 
mand that you release me forthwith.” As he 
spoke he crossed the room and seated himself on 
the edge of a chair facing the two officers, so that 
the tray of food was between them. 

But Major Tarlton made it plain that he had 
no intention of releasing him. 

“I must have some one to show for this night’s 
work,” he repeated, again and again; nor was it 
to be wondered at that he would want all the 
evidence he could muster to excuse his failure. 
To have had General Washington in his grasp 
and yet not to have seized him would need much 
explanation, and his chagrin was understandable. 

“Come now, Mr. Abbott,” his lordship cried, 

52 


NEW USE FOR AN OLD TRAY 

''give us your parole that you will not try to es¬ 
cape. It irks me to see you sitting there bound 
while we munch your good food. Sir, I pray 
you give us your word/’ 

“Nay, an you take me, I shall go bound,” 
Father retorted angrily. “I shall insist that you 
use force, seeing that I can not admit that you 
have the shadow of a right in these proceedings.” 

“That will hardly trouble us, sir,” Major Tarl- 
ton replied good-humoredly. “Our thought was 
only for your comfort. As to the rights and 
wrongs of the matter, egad! we 'll let Sir William 
measure the extent of your disloyalty.” 

Now all this while I was puzzling my head over 
some method to let Father know that there was 
a horse saddled and waiting at the back door. 
Oh, how I racked my brains to find a way to do 
this without telling the British officers as well. 
It was impossible to whisper. They were on the 
other side of the table, not three feet from Father, 
and I dared not do anything that might arouse 
their suspicions. Should that happen, they 
would be ready for any move he might make. 
Only by surprising them could he hope to win 
through the kitchen sufficiently in advance to 






A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


mount the horse and get a start. Even if he did 
this, he was far from having escaped, but, know¬ 
ing the lay of the land, I hoped there was a good 
chance that in the dark, on a fresh horse, he 
could ride across country and so evade them. 
But how to tell him this seemed beyond me. 
While the officers were arguing I walked about 
the room, thinking, thinking, thinking, yet find¬ 
ing no solution to my problem. I dared not speak 
in French, which I knew right well, for it was 
more than likely both officers also knew that lan¬ 
guage; and even if they did not, the fact of my 
talking in an unfamiliar tongue would set our 
enemies on the alert. 

No, that would not do. I must communicate 
my news to Father -before his captors without 
even a hint that I was imparting information. 
It seemed an impossible task and I was about to 
give up in despair when I saw, hanging on the 
wall, a small sampler worked by my mother, when 
she was a girl. 

My spirits rose as I looked at it. I, too, was 
working a sampler and had been busy with it 
that very evening before going to bed. No one 

54 


NEW USE FOR AN OLD TRAY 


would suspect if I stitched while my elders 
argued. 

At once I went to the closet where my sampler 
lay and, taking up the frame, went straight to 
Father’s side and sat down in a chair on his left 
hand, behind the candle-holders. My work was 
nearly finished, and the alphabet was gay with 
the colored silks I had stitched into the canvas; 
but what I was most happy about was the fact 
that among the several animals along the border 
were a cow, a sheep, and a horse. It was the 
last named in which I was interested. 

Major Tarlton and his lordship watched me 
with a smile as I took up my needle, the latter 
saying something in an undertone about the busy 
housewife, which pleased me. 

The little horse embroidered on the sampler 
was done in brown, and my needle being threaded 
in bright red silk, I sewed a cross-stitch on its 
side that could not fail to attract the eye. Slip¬ 
ping my foot over Father’s toe, I pressed hard 
upon it and for an instant held my needle at the 
mark I had just made, without daring to look at 
him. Evidently he guessed that something secret 

55 





A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


was going forward, for he became more animated 
in his protests and leaned far across the table to¬ 
ward the British officers. 

“I tell you, gentlemen,” he cried, “it is an out¬ 
rage that you insist upon taking me to Staten 
Island. I can find no excuse for it!” 

“Excuse or no,” I heard Major Tarlton retort, 
but that was all I heard. An answering touch 
on my foot had let me know that Father under¬ 
stood what I was after and had seen the horse I 
wished him to look at. 

Then, drawing my needle through the letter 
A, I connected it with a T and again pressed his 
foot. In an instant, without a pause in his talk, 
I *had an answering touch and went on with my 
work, beginning this time with a B and spelling 
out, in the same way, BACK, again giving my 
signal, which was presently answered. All that 
was le’ft was to spell out door, and a few seconds 
later Father was possessed of the information 
that there was a horse for him at the back door. 

So far, so good; but Father was still bound and 
the time was speeding. Major Tarlton was 
again urging the necessity of being on their way, 
although Lord Algernon still dallied with his 

56 


NEW USE FOR AN OLD TRAY 


food, protesting that he was in no hurry to start 
out upon a long ride. 

Hoping that they would stop a moment longer, 
at any rate, I rose to my feet, saying that I 
would replenish the flask of Madeira wine they 
had consumed, in order that they might drink a 
stirrup-cup ere they left and begged that Father 
should have a glass, also, ere they took him away. 

Major Tarlton, always polite, made no objec¬ 
tion to this, and, with the decanter, I flew into the 
kitchen, where Wilkinson was waiting in a fever 
of excitement. 

“What is toward, Mistress Patty ?” he asked 
breathlessly. “I know it is the master that is 
bound in there. I have heard the talk, but we 
can not let him be taken away by these redcoats.’" 

“Nay, listen!” I whispered. “Is the horse 
ready?” 

“Aye, saddled and ready!” 

“Then what you must do is to stand behind 
the door, and, when Father runs through it, be 
swift to lock it behind him, If this can be done, 
he will have a chance to get away, otherwise—” 

“Aye, the master knows the country,” Wilkin¬ 
son murmured, nodding to show understanding 

57 




A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


of what was expected of him. “But how will 
you free his hands ?” 

“I shall cut the bonds,” I answered, and took 
up the knife I had used to slice the bread. 

With the full decanter, I went back into the 
room, hiding the knife in my left hand under the 
folds of my apron. The two officers were still 
seated opposite Father, but Major Tarlton was 
drawing on his gauntlets, and I knew the time 
left to me was short. 

I walked toward Father, who sat with his back 
to the door, in as straight a line as I could, thus 
sheltering myself behind him, and, reaching over 
his shoulder as I came up to him, placed the wine 
on the table. Lord Algernon immediately picked 
it up and began pouring out a glassful, and I, put¬ 
ting my free arm over Father’s shoulder let my 
head rest against his and began to play my part. 

“Oh, Father/’ I cried with a sob, “I can’t let 
you go. They will do something ’cruel to you and 
I shall never see you again.” 

“Nay now, Miss Patty,” Major Tarlton pro¬ 
tested, “we are not monsters. Sure, Mr. Ab¬ 
bott is as safe as a church, and in two days he 

58 


NEW USE FOR AN OLD TRAY 

will be back. Pray be calm. It distresses me to 
have you weep.” 

And then Lord Algernon took up the tale, while 
I, leaning over Father and hiding my face on 
his shoulder, worked with my other hand behind 
his back to cut his bonds with the knife. It was 
by no means an easy task, for I was fearful of 
wounding his bound hands; but the cords were 
none too stout, and I was careful to feel the place 
with my finger ere I essayed to cut. 

Sobbing as if my heart would break, and thus 
giving an excuse for the convulsive movement of 
my shoulder, I worked the blade up and down 
until I felt his hands part an inch or so. He 
was free, but he still kept his hands behind his 
back. 

“Do not worry, Patty, my dear,” he said gently. 
“I do not think Major Tarlton means to harm 
me; and although it is by no means convenient 
that I accompany him, I am sure you need not 
fear for my life. At any rate, it grows late, and 
the quicker we are off, the sooner I shall return. 
Let me up, and dry your eyes, my child.” 

I stepped back, keeping my head down as if 

59 





A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


still heartbroken, but in reality tense with excite¬ 
ment, and very slowly Father rose to his feet. 
Then, with a suddenness that surprised even me, 
who was expecting something, he swiftly brought 
his arms forward, and, picking up the edge of 
the tray, turned it over on Lord Fairbrook and 
Major Tarlton. Without a word, he wheeled in 
his tracks and in an instant was out of the room. 
The crash of a closing door warned me that he 
was in the kitchen and that Wilkinson had slipped 
the bolt. 

This sudden and unexpected action of Father’s 
had so disconcerted the British officers that they 
made no movement, but sat as if stunned amid 
the crockery falling about their heads. But only 
for a moment was Major Tarlton off his guard. 
With»a cry, he jumped to his feet and threw him¬ 
self upon the door to follow the escaping prisoner. 

Finding it bolted against him, he wasted no 
time in vain effort to batter it down, but ran out 
through the casement, shouting orders into the 
night. 

“Surround the house!” I heard him cry. “Our 
prisoner has escaped. After and shoot him 
down, an he halts not!” 


60 


NEW USE FOR AN OLD TRAY 

Shouts and the clatter of mounting troopers 
answered, and in a moment there were gallop¬ 
ing horses spreading out in the darkness. 

As for me, I stood in the middle of the room 
and, in spite of my anxiety for Father, I could 
not help but raise peal upon peal of laughter at 
the sight before my eyes. 

Lord Algernon, completely surprised by the 
sudden activities of the tray, was rising slowly 
out of the broken shards of china and glass. He 
looked at me with the most childlike and innocent 
expression of amazement that I have ever seen. 

“What happened, Mistress Patty?” he asked, 
pathetically. “Was the house struck by light¬ 
ning, perchance?” 

“Nay, your lordship,” I answered, as well as 
I might for laughing, “it was only Father, who 
carelessly upset the tray. You must forgive our 
clumsy, provincial manners.” 

He still looked vaguely at me, but after a mo¬ 
ment I forgot him. Outside were the sounds of 
pursuit, and my anxiety for Father's safety 
struck sharply at my heart. It was no light mat¬ 
ter he was attempting. They would shoot him 
down, if need be, to bring him to a halt, and I 

61 





A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


was sure he carried papers that might well hang 
him for a spy. At least a dozen troopers were 
after him in hot haste. Could he win against 
odds of twelve to one ? 


62 


CHAPTER V 

A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


T HE crash of a musket-shot outside the house 
brought me to a full realization of Father’s 
danger. That he had won to the waiting horse 
had seemed a guarantee of his escape. Now I 
appreciated that this was only the beginning of 
his attempt to gain his freedom, and that the 
shouted orders that echoed through the night 
were but noisy evidence that the chase would be 
vigorously pressed. 

The sound of the musket-fire gave a 
spur to Lord Fairbrook’s dazed wits, and he 
sprang to his feet with an energy little in keep¬ 
ing with his mincing manners and affected speech. 
Without another word, he too ran out of the 
room, and a moment later I heard him speaking 
to his horse as he rode away to join his fellows. 
Another had been added to the odds already laid 
against Father’s escape. 

I stood where he had left me, listening to the 

63 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


sounds of the chase and trying to gage their 
purport, but in a very short time they drew away 
and grew more and more distant. This fact 
assured me that Father had secured a start and 
gave me a feeling of confidence. He knew the 
country lanes as the British troopers could not. 
Hope came to me that eventually he would win 
his way to the Saucy Sally and escape. Gradu¬ 
ally the night grew still again and I looked out of 
the casement to see if all the enemy had left us. 

To my surprise, there was a riderless horse 
grazing quietly on the lawn, and as it worked its 
way into the square of light shining from the 
room I recognized Bess, the mare that Father 
had ridden away on earlier. She had been left 
behind by the troopers and, feeling quite at home, 
had begun to graze. 

I turned, thinking to speak to Wilkinson and 
have the horse put into the stable, when the door 
opened and Father stepped into the room. 

“You?” I whispered. “I thought—” 

He held up his hand for silence and quickly 
crossed the floor. In a moment he had blown 
out the candles and we were in darkness. 

“They are chasing Wilkinson,” he told me in 

64 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


an undertone. “They are little like to catch him, 
and, if they do, ’t will serve them ill. Major 
Tarlton is an impulsive young man, who jumps 
too quickly to conclusions.” 

“I do not understand—” I began, but he in¬ 
terrupted : 

“You see, Patty, I could not leave as you had 
planned, so Wilkinson rode the horse while I 
stayed hid till all was quiet. The troopers could 
not see in the dark whom they followed. Now I 
must secure the despatches Mr. Washington gave 
me for Dr. Franklin and be off.” 

“You—you mean”—I stuttered, “that you 
were n’t carrying them all the time they talked 
of searching you?” 

“Nay, my dear,” he replied. “The first thing 
I did, when they attacked us, was to drop the 
papers in a ditch at the cross-roads. I dared 
not hold them, seeing that we were outnumbered 
and being fearful of the outcome.” 

“Oh,” I murmured, “I was in such dread lest 

i 

they should find them upon you.” 

I felt his arm round me in a loving hug. 

“You are a brave and clever girl, Patty, to 
have given me the chance you did. I should 

65 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


never have thought of the sampler. In truth, I 
had no hope, my dear, of winning free. Now I 
must to the stables to find another horse.” 

“Bess is grazing on the lawn.” 

“Good!” he exclaimed. “They did not stop to 
take her with them. I made sure they would, 
and was sorry. This is fine luck. Now kiss me 
good-by again. I must make haste.” 

“Think you it is safe upon the Gloucester road 
now?” I asked, lifting myself on tiptoe to put my 
arms about his neck. “I am loth to have you 
go” 

“The road was! never dangerous for me,” he 
replied reassuringly. “And now that Wilkin¬ 
son is leading them a merry chase in the opposite 
direction there is naught left to fear.” He kissed 
me heartily and straightened his broad shoulders. 
“Good-by, Patty dear. I like not sending you 
to your Aunt Augusta, but I shall feel easier in 
my mind knowing that you are there.” 

“I shall go as soon as I have set the house in 
order,” I promised him. “When will you re¬ 
turn?” 

“On the first ship that sails after I have 
fulfilled my mission,” he answered. “My heart 

66 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


is here with you and Val and the cause." 

Once more he kissed me and passed through 
the casement into the night. In the dim light I 
saw him lead Bess to the driveway and mount. 
A moment later he had ridden away and I was 
alone. 

I waited an hour longer, thinking that Wilkin¬ 
son might return; but naught further came to dis¬ 
turb us, and at length Jinny and I went back to 
bed. 

“ 'Deed, Miss Patty," she murmured sleepily, 
as she went off to the servant's quarters, “I don' 
see much use in gwin' to bed. It '11 be daylight 
mos' any minute now." 

“Nonsense!" I answered. “It's hours till 
daylight. You go and get all the rest you can. 
We shall have a busy day to-morrow." 

“What you mean, Miss Patty?" she questioned 
suspiciously. 

“We are going to Philadelphia in a few days, 
and I must shut up the house ere we go." 

“Land sakes, is we?" she cried, her eyes gleam¬ 
ing with anticipated pleasure. 

“Yes, and we are going to stay there a long 
time." 


67 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“Can’t be too long for Jinny,” she replied with 
a grin. “I likes the country foh picnics an’ such; 
but when it comes to havin’ it regular, . I’s got 
a special hankerin’ foh the city, where there’s 
somethin’ gwin’ on.” 

I was not displeased that there was one who 
was glad to go to Philadelphia. For my part, 
I looked forward to it with dread. As for some¬ 
thing “gwin’ on,” as Jinny put it, even she had 
enough of that before she came back to Spring- 
hill many months later. 

Strange as it may seem, I went to sleep almost 
as soon as my head touched the pillow. My 
hours of excitement and anxiety had tired me, 
and as yet I did not realize what it meant to have 
Father away. The time was to come when I 
should long to have him near me, to tell him all 
the anxieties that were in my heart; when I lay 
awake wondering if ever I should see him again 
and wetting my pillow with tears that, alone in 
bed, I need not hide from prying eyes. But on 
that first night the full realization of his absence 
had not made itself felt, and I spent the remain¬ 
ing hours in a dreamless, restful sleep. 

On the morrow I was up betimes; for although 

68 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


I looked not forward to any pleasure at the end 
of my journey, I must to Philadelphia, and it 
was my way to be mightily bent upon having un¬ 
pleasant tasks over and done with. I had no 
flattering hopes of kindly treatment from my 
Aunt Augusta. I expected to be far from happy 
under her roof; but it was the first meeting, the 
breaking the news to her, that I most dreaded, 
and when that was over I felt sure I could man¬ 
age to live along from day to day, counting each 
a step nearer my return home and meaning to 
give no cause for complaint upon my conduct. 

But there were many things to be attended to 
ere I was ready to start off with Jinny. My first 
question was of Wilkinson and, much to my de¬ 
light, he was safe back and at his duties as if 
naught had happened. I sent for him and he 
came almost at once. 

He greeted me with a smile and a wink, his 
funny, screwed-up face awry in a curious grin. 

“We fooled ’em, Miss Patty,” he whispered. 

“Aye, and I doubt not you gave them a fine 
chase, Wilkinson,” I answered, catching some¬ 
thing of his enthusiasm. 

“Did I not that!” he replied, with a chuckle. 

69 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“Over fences, through wood-paths, into swamps, 
hither and yon, Miss, always near enough to spur 
them on, yet working them always farther and 
farther away. Bless us, Miss, it was grand fun, 
and all the while your father speeding off safe as 
a church.” 

“I’m glad you escaped them/’ I said heartily. 

“Indeed, Miss, ’t was only remembering that 
you would be here alone that brought me back,” 
he went on. “I was sore tempted to let them cap¬ 
ture me, just to see the queer looks on their faces 
when they found it was n't the master. Ah, that 
would have pleased me, and’t was a great tempta¬ 
tion. I told myself they would have to let me 
go, anyway, and once was near to stopping; but 
then I remembered they’d be mighty angry and 
like enough to take me along as something to 
show for their night’s riding, so I gave ’em the 
slip and came home.” 

“And what happened to them?” I asked. 

“ ’T was in a wood north of the Red Lion Inn, 
nigh twenty miles from here, they gathered finally, 
their bugler calling ’em in, and I heard an officer 
tellin’ the troopers to cut for the ferry to Staten 
Island. I was within ear-shot of ’em and they 

70 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


never knew it, though they might have, seem’ 
that one of their horses whinnied, knowin’ mine 
was near. But being stupid, they never guessed.” 

Wilkinson was full of his exploit, and in sooth 
I took great pleasure in hearing him tell of 
having outwitted the British, but we had many 
things to do and could not spend the day talking 
of what was past. Hearing of my projected 
visit to Philadelphia, he began to grumble at 
once. 

“The master need not have worried,” he burst 
out. “There ’s naught to fear from the British, 
Miss Patty. What have they done since they ’ve 
been here, I ask you? Naught but rubbish 
around, scarin’ women and children with their 
Hessians. But how far have they got in that? 
To New York, where they can sail away in their 
big fleet if Mr. Washington shakes a fist at them. 
’T was the same in Boston. They talk a lot, 
but I note they like to keep near the sea. And I 
tell you, Miss Patty, these colonies are n’t to be 
put upon by an army with one foot on the land 
and another on a ship.” 

“All the same, I must go to Philadelphia, Wil¬ 
kinson,” I insisted. “I promised Father.” 

7i 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“Indeed and you must then,” he agreed, “and 
I ’ll see you there myself.” 

We had been talking in the study, and, as he 
turned to go away, he stooped and picked up some¬ 
thing from the floor near the casement. 

“It’s a Continental dollar, Miss,” he said, 
handing it to me as he went out; and as I took it, 
the recollection came back to me that I had seen 
Major Tarlton drop something just as Father 
was making his escape. 

I stood looking at the paper money in my hand 
after Wilkinson had gone, and found myself not 
a little puzzled thereby. Continental bills were 
not popular in our household, and I knew that 
Father would scarce' have dropped it; yet was it 
not more unlikely that a British officer should 
have such a thing about his person? He had 
dropped something, but was I sure it was this 
bit of paper? Might it not have been a crust of 
bread ? I shut my eyes to live through the scene 
again. No, it was not bread that had fallen. I 
seemed to see it flutter to the floor. 

I examined the bill itself, which showed noth¬ 
ing out of the ordinary, except in one corner of 
it there was a tear or split and the two sides 

72 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


gaped wide for half an inch. This fact struck 
me as odd, though at the first moment I was not 
conscious of any great curiosity. But as I looked 
again at the divided corner of the bill I could 
not help a feeling of surprise, for it appeared as 
if the money was made of two pieces of paper, 
a back and a front, pasted together. This, I 
felt sure, was neither practical nor possible. Out 
of idle curiosity I tried to separate the split cor¬ 
ners still further, when my eye caught sight of 
a bit of tissue-paper tucked within the bill, as 
in a pocket. Here was something I was quite 
positive was not usually found inside Continental 
dollars, and I determined then and there to in¬ 
vestigate it. 

But the paper would not part further without 
tearing, and that I did not wish. I puzzled over 
the matter, examining the bill closely and, in do¬ 
ing so, brought it near to my face, where my nose 
gave me an instant clue. Certainly there was 
a smell of glue about it; not very pronounced, 
but enough to furnish the hint I was seeking. 

Straightway I ran to the kitchen and, secur¬ 
ing a bowl, filled it with warm water from the 
kettle and went up to my own room. I had no 

73 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


wish to try my experiments before the kitchen 
maids, for I knew not what I might find, and it 
is always safer to guard from those who like to 
gossip, such things as you would prefer to keep 
secret. 

I plunged the bill into the water until it was 
well soaked, then, with the utmost care, I tested 
it again to see if the two pieces I held in suspi¬ 
cion would draw apart. Nor was I greatly sur¬ 
prised to find that they did so quite easily up to 
half the length of the bill, and that inside was a 
small oblong of tissue-paper. This, too, came 
away readily, and, rather excited because I felt 
sure I held an important message in my hand, 
I looked at it eagerly. But I was doomed to 
disappointment. All that I at first noted were 
five faint parallel lines running at right angles to 
the length of the paper. Upon closer inspection, 
however, I found that between the lines some one 
had pricked tiny holes, with a pin, mayhap. 
These I eagerly scanned, but they seemed to have 
been made at random and held no meaning for 
me. 

Nevertheless, I was certain that to one who 
had the key to the riddle a message might easily 

74 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


be read from these tiny holes, nor would so much 
care and forethought have been wasted on any 
trivial communication. The very secrecy that 
had been observed pointed plainly to the impor¬ 
tance of the document, and I came again to a 
swift conclusion that it was Major Tarlton who 
had dropped the bill in his hurried attempt to 
catch Father. 

That it had to do with the war I had not the 
least doubt. It might be information about our 
armies sent by some Tory in Philadelphia, or a 
communication to the British general from one 
of his spies. A dozen possible explanations of 
what it might contain entered my head, and I 
looked impatiently at the wet paper lying on my 
extended palm, vainly trying to fathom its mean¬ 
ing. 

Unsuccessful though I was, I yet had one satis¬ 
faction—the message would never reach the eyes 
for which it was intended. That much I meant 
to make sure of, and I spread out the paper in 
the sun so that it would dry quickly. 

Then I took up the Continental bill, which was 
still wet, and, fitting the split part carefully, 
pressed the halves together and laid it in the sun, 

75 





A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


caring little what became of it, but thinking to 
give it to Jinny when it was whole again. 

That done, I tried to keep my mind on practical 
matters, and set to planning for the proper care 
of our belongings while I was away, and hasten¬ 
ing our house-servants at their work. 

There were many things that needed attention 
if none of the family were to be at home. The 
furniture must be covered, linens of all kinds 
must be stowed in the chests, and woolens and 
clothes not in use packed in the cedar boxes. 
Then, too, there was a quantity of silverware of 
all sorts that must be brought together and set 
in hiding; and these things were but a portion of 
the duties I must perform before I felt at liberty 
to leave the house to the care of our blacks, the 
provisioning of whom Wilkinson would see to. 
So I delayed not, but started into the business 
of sorting and packing, insisting that it must all 
be done in good time. 

About noon I found the papers which I had 
left in the sun to dry were again crisp, and I 
noted that the bill, in particular, had no look of 
having been tampered with. The glue with 
which it had originally been stuck together, after 

76 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


having been so neatly split, had fastened the 
halves tight once more, so that even the telltale 
corner which had betrayed the secret was closed. 
No one would have suspected that aught out of 
the ordinary had befallen it. 

Jinny not being by at the moment, I folded 
the bill and put it into the pocket of my dress, 
intending to hand it to her later, but the little 
strip of thin white paper I placed carefully be¬ 
tween the folds of a handkerchief which, in turn, 
I hid under some others in the drawer of my 
dressing-table. Then, very busy with other 
things, I forgot all about it for the time. 

That evening after supper I went to my room, 
meaning to find a surer hiding-place for the mys¬ 
terious message. I was somewhat puzzled over 
where I should stow it, for I meant to take it with 
me to Philadelphia and there seek out a good 
patriot who would forward it to our army head¬ 
quarters where, I doubted not, a clear reading of 
it would be obtained. 

But, knowing Jinny and her inability to refrain 
from handling all my belongings, I cared not to 
run the risk of her coming upon it, thinking it 
useless, and possibly throwing the paper away. 

77 




A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


Then, too, there was a bare chance that I might 
be stopped by the enemy on my ride to Philadel¬ 
phia, so I racked my brains for a time, until I 
bethought me of an old rag doll which had been 
a treasured possession of my childhood and was 
still held in much esteem for the sake of its as¬ 
sociations. Here was a safe place to hide the 
paper. 

Acting upon the thought, I took my doll and, 
carefully ripping a seam in her side, slipped in 
the paper and neatly sewed the rent. Not even 
the most careful scrutiny would disclose the fact 
that under her calico dress the poor old doll 
carried a message, the importance of which I 
could not estimate. 

When that was finished I went to bed, although 
it was still daylight; but I was very tired and, 
knowing that I must arise at dawn, I quickly 
dropped off to sleep. 

I could scarce have slept half an hour when 
Jinny roused me with the information that there 
was a “gemman” to see me. 

“What sort of a gentleman, Jinny?” I de¬ 
manded, sitting up in bed and regarding her with 
sleepy puzzlement. 


78 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

“Oh, jes’ a gemman, Missy,” she answered. 
“He’s nice spoken, but he ’dares he must see 
you.” 

“Did n’t he give any name?” I asked. 

“He done tol’ me you’d know him when you 
saw him,” she answered, shaking her head. 

“Are you sure he does n’t want to see Wilkin¬ 
son?” I inquired after a moment’s thought. 

“No ’m, he wants to see you,” she insisted 
doggedly. “I tells him Wilkinson is in the barn, 
but he don’ show no interest in that.” 

“You ’re sure he’s not one of the neighbors?” 

“None as I ever see,” she replied. 

“Where is he?” I asked next. 

“Down to the study, Miss. I foun’ him 
knockin’ on the casement and brought him right 
in. He seemed to know that way.” 

For a moment the suspicion flashed into my 
mind that we were having a return of our last 
night’s visitors; but I dismissed it and jumped 
out of bed. Jinny helped me into the dress I had 
been wearing during the day, and then we both 
hastened downstairs. As we entered the study 
I told Jinny to light the candles, while I advanced 
to meet the dim figure outlined against the fast- 

79 






A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


fading daylight beyond the casement window. 

“You wish to see me?” I said formally. 

“I ’m sorry to have disturbed you, Miss Patty,” 
came the reply; but I cut him short with an ex¬ 
clamation. 

“Major Tarlton!” I cried. 

“Hush,” he murmured, “an it please you, I had 
rather you did not cry my name abroad. I am 
alone and out of uniform, and though you may 
not have any love for British officers, I scarce be¬ 
lieve you want to help to have me hanged for a 
spy.” He spoke lightly, as was his wont; but he 
was earnest enough for all that, and I, knowing 
the danger of his position, understood. 

“What is it ?” I asked. “I had not expected to 
see you again.” 

The candles being lighted by this time, I nodded 
to Jinny to stay at the far corner of the room. 

“I am desolated, as my friend Algernon would 
say, to cause you all this annoyance,” the major 
went on, “but when I was here last night, in my 
haste to catch your father I must have dropped a 
Continental bill on the floor. I did n’t catch him, 
as you doubtless know, and have had a good wig¬ 
ging from the general, who gives little credence 

80 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


to our story of two General Washingtons; but, as 
you see, I have survived that and am now look¬ 
ing, not without some risk, for my own lost dollar. 
Have you seen it, Miss Patty ?” 

Indeed, I had been right in suspecting that the 
message I had found in that split bill was no 
light one. The fact that Major Tarlton was 
risking his life in trying to recover it emphasized 
its importance as nothing else could have done. 

“Yes, I did find a bill on the floor this morn¬ 
ing,” I told him frankly, feeling in my pocket 
where I had placed it. 

“Ah, that is good!” he exclaimed, with some¬ 
thing close to a cry of relief in his tone. “You 
may think it is a mort of trouble to take over so 
valueless an object, but it was given me by a 
friend and has a certain—eh—sentimental value, 
Miss Patty. You can guess how much I prize it, 
as a souvenir, of course, for you understand that 
I am risking something to have it back.” 

He spoke easily, no doubt thinking he had be¬ 
fooled a simple country girl of fifteen, and it was 
not a part of my plan to let him see that he had 
done no such thing; so I gave him the bill, which 
he took with an eagerness he could not conceal, 

81 






A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


and was at once in haste to be off, flinging me a 
word or two of polite thanks and a laugh at his 
failure of the previous night. Without cere¬ 
mony, and, be it noted, this time without food, he 
left, his spirits plainly higher for the fact that 
he had found that lost dollar. 

After he had gone I sat down to think. 
What secret that paper held I had not even a 
suspicion, but that it was highly important to the 
British I could not fail to appreciate since this 
visit from Major Tarlton. For perhaps ten min¬ 
utes I thrashed the matter over in my mind, then 
I came to a decision. 

“Jinny,” I cried, springing to my feet, “find 
Wilkinson and send him to me. Then go and 
make yourself ready for a journey. We start 
for Philadelphia at once!” 


CHAPTER VI 

MY RAG DOLL GOES A-TRAVELING 


M Y decision to leave-Spring-hill that night was 
based upon what I thought, at the time, to 
be sound reasoning. That the message was of 
great moment to the British I had no doubt. Ma¬ 
jor Tarlton had risked death as a spy to come 
back for it; and although he had tried to hide the 
satisfaction he felt in the recovery of the bill, 
even pretending it was of no moment to any one 
but himself, I was certain I knew better. What 
concerned me most was how soon would he dis¬ 
cover that he had been tricked? 

Wilkinson came quickly in reply to Jinny’s sum¬ 
mons. I was resolved to take him into my con¬ 
fidence. He was wholly devoted to our interests, 
and Father trusted him and consulted him freely 
upon all affairs connected with the estate. It 
was not that I wished to shift responsibilities for 
the decision upon his shoulders; my mind was al¬ 
ready made up; but I owed him an explanation 

83 




A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


and was by no means averse to hearing any argu¬ 
ments that he might bring against my plan, once 
he knew how the matter lay. 

“Jinny tells me you are for Philadelphia to¬ 
night, Miss Patty,” he said, with a doubtful shake 
of his head, as if he suspected the colored girl of 
being mistaken. 

“ ’T is my belief that we had better go at once, 
Wilkinson,” I replied, and forthwith set the tale 
before him. “Of course,” I ended, “it is scarce 
probable Major Tarlton will stop to see whether 
he has been fooled or no till he reaches his quar¬ 
ters in Staten Island; but he might!” 

“Aye, he might,” Wilkinson agreed. “There’s 
many a Tory house ’twixt here and South Amboy 
where he could halt to examine that Continental 
bill.” 

“And ’t is plain,” I went on, “he might grow 
uneasy. He knows we are patriots and would 
do aught we can to get the better of the British. 
If it should occur to him that I doubted his story, 
he would be certain I would not return the same 
bill, even though I did n’t know there was a secret 
inside of his.” 


84 


MY RAG DOLL 


'‘You ’re right there, Miss,” Wilkinson said 
thoughtfully. kk He could n’t be sure you’d given 
him back the same note unless he separated it; 
and once he even suspected you might fool him, 
he ’d make sure before he went another mile.” 

“And then what would he do?” I asked. 

“Ride straight back here!” Wilkinson ex¬ 
claimed, voicing my own conviction. “More¬ 
over,” he went on, “he would n’t stop at any meas¬ 
ures needful to get back the message.” 

“He never would get it from me,” I declared 
firmly. 

“Aye, that says itself,” Wilkinson replied 
heartily; “but he’s like to bring a half-dozen of 
his Tory friends with him and we’d be helpless, 
Miss Patty. For myself I’m not afraid of a 
regiment of his men, but we must n’t have you 
mixed up with fighting. That wouldn’t do at 
all, and that is n’t the worst that could happen. 
Failing to get what he wanted, he’d take you off 
a prisoner, Miss.” 

“He’d never dare!” I cried. 

“Oh, would n’t he ?” Wilkinson insisted. “He’d 
threaten you, hoping you would give him the 

85 




A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


paper, and then, when you would n’t, he’d carry 
out his threat and—then you ’d see fighting, Miss 
Patty/' 

“In that case we had better get ready and leave 
for Philadelphia,” I said, rising. 

“Nay, now,” the man returned, “do you think 
Philadelphia is the best place we can set out for?” 

“Where else should I go?” I questioned, sur¬ 
prised at his suggestion. 

“It seems to me that message, whatever it is, 
should be in General Washington’s hands without 
delay,” he explained. “Doubtless it is some mili¬ 
tary secret and it ought to be at the service of 
those who can make the most use of it.” 

“But we have no idea where Mr. Washington 
is,” I replied. 

“We can find him,” Wilkinson replied con¬ 
fidently. 

“Aye, in the end; but we might be wandering 
about the country for a fortnight before we came 
up with him,” I argued. “Even we might fall 
into the hands of the British; and if, as I believe, 
this secret communication is only information 
about our forces, the most important thing is to 
keep it out of the hands of the enemy. If it had 

86 


MY RAG DOLL 


to do with their army, then we should want it to 
reach our general at once. As it is, I don’t think 
there is any haste.” 

Wilkinson considered this for a time, then 
nodded his head. 

“I guess you ’re right, Miss. We ’ll on to 
Philadelphia as soon as the coach can be got 
ready.” 

With Susan and Jinny to help, I set to work 
at my packing. Seeing that our stay was to be 
an indefinite one, we needed a considerable amount 
of gear, and it was fully an hour before the boxes 
were ready. 

Both colored girls giggled endlessly at my tak¬ 
ing the rag doll. 

“Land sakes, Miss Patty!” Susan exclaimed, 
“you ain’t a child no longer to play with dolls! 
’Sides, you might take the pretty one that came 
from France, if you must have such a play-toy.” 

“The city folks will think we’s mighty poor 
if they sees that ol’ rag thing,” Jinny commented, 
in a tone of disgust. 

“To me, she’s just sweet,” I told them, and put 
the forlorn plaything into my portmantle with 
assumed unconcern. 


87 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


And at length we started upon our journey. 
We had no thought of reaching Philadelphia that 
night and, once well away from the house, there 
was no need to urge the horses. When we came 
to the river-bank we should have to wait until 
daylight before crossing the Gloucester ferry. 
In all, the journey was scarce above ten miles; so, 
once clear of the house, Wilkinson let the horses 
walk most of the way, while inside I dozed and 
Jinny frankly snored. 

I woke as we came to a stop and, looking out, 
saw the broad river gleaming in the starlight. 
And the sight of it set me to wondering how 
Father fared on his journey to France. Our 
parting had been so hurried that I had scarce 
bade him good-by, and now there were an hun¬ 
dred things I should like to say to him. When 
should I see him again ? In those troubled times 
I dared not dwell too deeply upon what might 
happen. On the ocean, there were many British 
ships lying in wait for just such vessels as the 
Saucy Sally , besides the perils of the deep which 
beset her on every voyage. 

Not that it was a new thing for Father to be 
away. He had gone on many important missions 

88 


MY RAG DOLL 


to and fro over the country, leaving me alone, 
but this was the first occasion that had taken him 
across the Atlantic, and I liked it little. 

To take my mind off this, I talked to Wilkin¬ 
son of the things that must be done in the house, 
and he promised to see that all was put in order 
as I would wish. 

“And indeed, Miss Patty,” he said, repeating 
the same idea more than once, as we waited in 
the darkness, “I shall see you often and report 
how the estate prospers in your absence. ’T is 
in my mind that you would be quite as safe at 
Springhill as in the city, but doubtless the master 
knows best. Still, it is not so far away but per¬ 
chance you can pay the house a visit before 
long.” 

That, to my mind, was true enough. So far 
as that part of the Jerseys was concerned, all 
was peaceful. We heard but faint rumors of the 
struggle and these drifted down from the North. 
It seemed certain that the next battle would be 
for the control of the Hudson valley. Father, 
who had this information from those who knew, 
had told me there was little doubt that Sir Wil¬ 
liam Howe would lead the British forces up 

89 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


that river in the hope of uniting with General 
Burgoyne’s army coming down from Canada. 
So we were little like to see aught of fighting near 
us. And the farmers were busy cultivating their 
fields and looking forward to good crops. It did 
seem as if I were running away from naught, 
leaving the home where I should be most happy 
and comfortable, for no good reason. On the 
other hand, I appreciated Father’s view of the 
matter and had no thought but to do as he wished. 
Indeed, the affair of the previous night had 
proved that it would be rash to count on being 
altogether immune from raids, at all events. 

Daylight found me again dozing in the car¬ 
riage; but I awoke when we bumped on to the 
ferry. Seeing no need for advertising my pres¬ 
ence, I stayed inside the coach and kept the cur¬ 
tains close drawn. Wilkinson would explain 
to the curious as much as he deemed was nec¬ 
essary. 

We were long in crossing; and from the shouts 
I heard uttered by the boatmen, I judged that the 
current was running strongly; but we made a 
landing in Philadelphia at last and climbed the 
steep hill to the city. 


90 


MY RAG DOLL 


My Aunt Augusta had, within the last year 
or two, built a fine new brick house on Pine Street 
above Fourth, and thither we went, I, for one, 
not in the least elated at the prospect before me. 
There had never been any intimacy between the 
families, and since the colonies had declared inde¬ 
pendence, what slight communication there had 
been was definitely ended. My cousin Rosalie, 
Aunt Augusta’s child, I had seen but twice 
in my lifetime, as, for one reason or another, she 
had always been away, sometimes at school in 
France, sometimes visiting in Virginia, where she 
had many gay and fashionable friends. And, be¬ 
ing three years older than I, there would have 
been little intimacy in any case. 

Rosalie had grown up in cities and would have 
a profound scorn, I doubted not, for a simple 
country girl, such as I was. To meet her and 
to note her pitying looks and sly smiles at my 
plain frocks was not the least of my worries. 
She was monstrous fashionable and something of 
a wit. Tales of her sayings had come to us, and 
Father had declared with a smile that she was 
“a saucy minx,” so I looked not forward with 
joy to being the butt of her sallies. 

9i 






A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


Against these impressions I had the word of 
my brother Val, who knew Cousin Rosalie quite 
well and frankly liked her. He insisted that she 
was not the snobbish lady I pictured her; but 
secretly I feared that her treatment of me would 
be very different from the welcome she might 
accord a personable young man. 

Then there was Mr. Roberts, my uncle by mar¬ 
riage, but of him there is little to say. He was a 
small, waspish man, who seemed to be ever in a 
hurry about something, yet never could I dis¬ 
cover what he did. I scarce saw him for more 
than a moment at a time. He would come buz¬ 
zing into the room, stick a little sting here and 
there, and buzz out again. So far as I could 
see, no one in the household ever paid the slight¬ 
est heed to his comings and goings. He was ever 
most fashionably dressed, and looked at the per¬ 
son before him through a quizzing-glass—a pic¬ 
ture of a middle-aged fop. Perchance his eyes 
were faulty and needed help, but I am sure he 
did not carry his glass for that reason. 

Aunt Augusta was a large woman, who took 
command of everything about her. She man- 

92 


MY RAG DOLL 


aged the affairs of every one within reach, or at 
least thought she did, and ruled her household 
with a rod of iron. She was as little like Father 
as could be, and I wondered often how she could 
possibly be his sister, so different were they in 
looks, manners, and tastes. She was slightly 
lame, from gout, I think, and carried a cane, 
which she shook on occasion with right good 
will at any one who opposed her. 

Now I was to live under her roof. I dreaded 
it more than I could have told, but there was no 
escape, and when the carriage stopped at the 
door I jumped out, determined to be as brave as 
I could and meet what was before me with a smil¬ 
ing face. In answer to the knocker, Mrs. Mc¬ 
Donald, the housekeeper, presented herself and 
recognized me with a grunt. I had known her 
for years. She was a hard-featured Scotch 
woman with little to say. 

“If ’t is the family ye be seekin’, Miss Patty,” 
she announced, “ye ’ll not find ’em. They ’re 
away to Harrogate for the day.” 

It was rather cowardly of me, I suppose, but 
at this news I could not help but be glad. To be 

93 





A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


sure, I must face them) sooner or later, but at 
least there were some good hours ahead of me in 
which I might follow my own pleasure. 

“I Ve come to stay, Mrs. McDonald,” I told 
her, and then explained that Father had gone 
away. 

She ushered me into the house with a good 
enough grace and took me up to a dear little room 
overlooking the garden in the back; but at Jinny 
she glanced darkly, and I fancied that the black 
girl herself began to see that, under the careful 
eye of this iron-handed housekeeper, she would 
have many occasions for wishing herself back «at 
Springhill ere long. 

Wilkinson brought in my boxes and, in a very 
short time it seemed, I said good-by to him and 
was seated before a comfortable breakfast under 
Mrs. McDonald’s eye. 

Evidently there was something on her mind. 
It had been there since she had first seen me on 
the step, and at last she let it out. 

“I doubt you ’ll be very welcome here, Miss 
Patty,” she blurted forth at length. 

“What makes you say that?” I asked; for after 
all, it was the home of my father’s sister and I 

94 


MY RAG DOLL 

could not believe my aunt would deny me a wel¬ 
come. 

“There’s small room in this house for rebels !” 
she exclaimed, and without another word quitted 
me. 


95 



CHAPTER VII 

I MEET A FRENCH GENTLEMAN 


1 DID not concern myself greatly over Mrs. 

McDonald’s prediction that rebels would 
not be welcome in the house of my Aunt 
Augusta. One thing my father and his sister 
had in common, and that was a bold and open 
expression of their opinions and a certain sturdy 
courage to battle for their convictions. There 
was no false pretense on either side; and if we 
knew that Aunt Augusta still was loyal to King 
George, she was equally aware of our sentiments; 
which, however, did not alter the fact that I was 
her niece and that blood gave me a claim to her 
protection. 

So the old housekeeper’s grim looks and dark 
hints added no whit to what I had looked for¬ 
ward to; and having made up my mind to go 
through with it, I did not intend to spoil any 
pleasure I might find by anticipating difficulties 
which I could neither avoid nor mitigate. Just at 

96 


A FRENCH GENTLEMAN 


present I was glad to have so good a breakfast, 
and proposed, when I had done, to take Jinny 
and explore a little of the city pending the return 
of the family from Harrogate. 

“Like master, like man,” is an old saying that I 
found true in this household; and though that 
fact would make small difference to me, Jinny 
would surely suffer. 

“ ’Deed, Miss Patty,” she began at once, when 
she came to my room to help me, “ ’deed, Missy, 
these folks is all Tories, the whole of ’em. There 
ain’t one that ain’t for these here redcoats. This 
ain’t no place for us, Miss Patty.” 

“We ’ll have to put up with it the best we 
can,” I replied. “Attend strictly to your duties 
and leave politics to your betters. That is what 
I mean to do, and I shall keep you with me as 
much as possible.” 

Mrs. McDonald eyed me rather sharply when 
I told her we were going to walk abroad, but said 
naught to stay me. Dinner, she informed me, 
would be at the fashionable hour of four o’clock; 
but she thought it scarce likely that the family 
would have returned by that time. I remarked 
that I expected we should be back long ere then; 

97 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


and purposely ignoring her appearance of ill- 
humor, I smiled on her as if, indeed, she were 
my dearest friend and we were on the best pos¬ 
sible terms. 

Jinny and I found the streets of Philadelphia 
exceeding busy, and, although the day was hot, 
people of all conditions were hurrying hither and 
yon bent upon their affairs; but all save the 
Quakers, who apparently would be calm in the 
midst of an earthquake, were excited and nerv¬ 
ous, or so it seemed to me. There was a restless¬ 
ness in the air, a feeling of uncertainty, which, 
was natural enough, seeing that no man could 
foretell from day to day what the morrow might 
bring forth. 

I noted, too, that many eyed their neighbors 
with sidelong glances, as if they trusted each 
other not. Here and there, close under the shade 
of the houses or in the angle of a garden wall, 
two or three would be gathered, whispering 
earnestly together, with set and serious- faces. 
Occasionally, a lady with her maid-servant would 
rustle by, her glance averted; but it was too 
warm upon the streets for any to tarry in the 
sun, and these were fashionable dames, whose 

98 


A FRENCH GENTLEMAN 


complexions were of mcfre moment to them than 
the outcome of the bitter struggle over the ques¬ 
tion of whether a king or a congress should rule 
their country. 

I noticed many fierce-looking foreigners, 
mostly in soiled uniforms of European armies. 
About them all was an air of scorn for us 
colonials, and yet they had come to beg places 
among us and expected to be paid out of all pro¬ 
portion to their abilities. 

Father had told me of these men, and of the 
difficulties Mr. Washington and Congress had 
in dealing with them. And here on the streets 
of Philadelphia I met them, strutting up and down 
as if their mere presence was the granting of a 
boon to these sorely tried colonies. 

As we moved from street to street, admiring 
the many fine houses and shops, in the windows 
of which much was displayed that smacked of 
a luxury ill becoming these uncertain times, sev¬ 
eral gentlemen known to me by sight passed us, 
these having been pointed out to me by Father on 
previous visits to the city. One was the famous 
Dr. Rush, possibly bent upon a visit to a patient 
at a pretentious residence up the steps of which 

99 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

/ 

he hurried. A little farther on we saw Mr. 
Nicholas Wain, a well-known Quaker, of whom 
Father had said, “He would ever twist the truth 
to fit his wit, nor care who might be hurt thereby.” 

We came upon the new state-house on Chestnut 
Street, and, the Congress being met there, the 
square was full of people, many going in and out 
of the building. We walked to and fro among 
the trees, grateful for the shade, and passed a 
group of foreigners in conversation with one of 
the gentlemen of Congress, a Mr. Lovell, as I 
later learned. They were all jabbering French 
as we went by, and that being a tongue with 
which I was familiar, I could not help overhear 
something of what was being said. It was evi¬ 
dent in a moment what the trouble was. Here 
was another company of foreign adventurers im¬ 
portuning Congress for places in our army, but I 
gathered from a chance word that there was little 
likelihood of their pleas being successful. 

“We are sorry, gentlemen, but at the moment, 
there seem to be no commands to offer you,” Mr. 
Lovell said, and again there was a violent protest, 
with the accompanying French gestures that, to 

ioo 



A FRENCH GENTLEMAN 

the onlooker, promised to be an introduction to 
fisticuffs. 

But among those who pleaded was one I could 
not help noting. His face, though I would not 
call it handsome, had a certain boyishness in it 
that made one sure he must be a bright and pleas¬ 
ant youth. I should not have thought he was 
much above my own age, that is to say, sixteen 
or seventeen years, so immature did he look; but 
there was something of authority about him that 
made one glance a second time. 

We passed, and I soon forgot all about the 
scene there under the hot sun on Chestnut Street, 
though I recollect saying to myself that here, at 
least, were some who would have to look else¬ 
where for easy wages, and feeling a certain satis¬ 
faction therein. 

Jinny’s persistent complaints of the heat led 
me to the conclusion that I had better take her 
back to Aunt Augusta’s; but when I suggested it, 
she protested that she would rather be boiled; so 
we turned our steps to the outskirts of the city 
and soon found ourselves in the shade of the huge 
trees of the Governor’s Woods. Aimlessly we 


IOI 







A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


wandered on till we came to the river Schuylkill 
to the west of the city, a pleasant running stream 
that tempted us to cross over and visit the oppo¬ 
site side, where many beautiful mansions had 
already been built, particularly Woodlands, the 
country home of one Mr. Galloway, a notorious 
Tory. We sat down on the bank under the shade 
of a mighty chestnut and rested after our long 
walk, Jinny chattering about everything she saw, 
and I letting my thoughts drift along unhampered 
by need of paying attention to her. 

I could not help speculating somewhat upon the 
adventures of the night before, although now, in 
the peaceful quiet of the country, with the river 
running smoothly and silently below us, it was 
hard to realize that two armies were facing each 
other in this bright land and that all the people 
were involved in the mighty struggle; that the 
principal topic on every one’s tongue was what 
the outcome of this strife would be and where 
would it all end. 

I think I dozed a little under that tree, and I 
know Jinny did; but presently I roused myself 
and took thought upon the speeding hours. The 

102 


A FRENCH GENTLEMAN 

shadows were lengthening, and it was high time 
we were starting back. 

I gave a last look at the lovely country across 
the river and turned to follow the path leading 
to the main road into the city. Upon reaching 
it, we came upon a country lad almost shouting 
to a man whose back was turned to us. 

“You go there to the city,” he cried, pointing 
to the south, which was along the path we had 
come and wholly away from Philadelphia. He 
gesticulated wildly and there was a sly twinkle 
in his eye, so that I guessed that without doubt 
he was bent upon deceiving one who had asked his 
way. 

“You know the city is not in that direction,” 
I said to the boy; but he gave me a wink and 
laughed outright. 

“He ’s just one of those Frenchies, and it will 
do him good to walk a while,” he had the im¬ 
pertinence to reply, and then ran off with a shout. 
But at my words the stranger had turned, and I 
recognized him as the young gentleman I had 
noticed near the state-house among the group of 
foreigners talking to Mr. Lovell. 

103 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“Monsieur,” I said, speaking in French, “if 
you wish to go to the city, it is in this direction. 
Perchance the boy did not understand.” This 
was not strictly true, as I knew, but I had a reluc¬ 
tance to admit, even to myself, that one of my 
countrymen would deliberately set a stranger on 
the wrong road, and I did not want a gentle¬ 
man of foreign birth to think there were 
those in America who would do so unkindly an 
act. 

His face lighted up with genuine pleasure, and, 
doffing his hat, he gave me a most distinguished 
bow. 

“A thousand thanks, mademoiselle,” he replied, 
in the same language. “I -have so little English 
that ’t is small wonder the boy could not under¬ 
stand what I wanted, but it is delightful to hear 
you speaking my language. Will you forgive me 
if I make a compliment?” 

He spoke so gently, so modestly, and looked so 
boyish withal, that I could not but smile back at 
him, which he took for an acquiescence in his 
request, and forthwith paid me the threatened 
compliment. 

“It is indeed that you speak French very well, 

104 


A FRENCH GENTLEMAN 

mademoiselle. You have been in Paris, is it not 
so?” 

“Oh, no, monsieur, but all my life I have had 
a French lady for governess, who has but lately 
gone back to her own country—since we went 
to war, in fact.” 

“She was indeed a lady,” the gentleman de¬ 
clared. “That I can tell from the way she has 
instructed you to pronounce our language. You 
have been an excellent pupil, mademoiselle, and 
it is a pleasure to meet an American so accom¬ 
plished.” He spoke easily and in a manner I 
had been taught to recognize as the French of 
polite people; but indeed there was about him an 
air of breeding that was unmistakable. It was 
hard to believe that this young man was an ad¬ 
venturer in need of money, come to the country 
for the sake of gaining a military rank he could 
hardly hope to win in his own land. 

Simply and courteously, he had stepped to my 
side, and we had walked on together in the most 
natural way in the world, Jinny dropping back a 
pace or two, and presently we found ourselves 
chatting amicably together, almost as if we had 
been old friends. 


105 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“It is because I am most unhappy that I have 
lost myself, mademoiselle,” he said. “I went into 
the forest after a very bitter disappointment, 
thinking not at all of where I was going, and I 
had little knowledge in what direction lay the 
city.” 

“I am sorry you have been disappointed, mon¬ 
sieur,” I said. “I suppose you wish to join our 
army?” 

“It has been my earnest desire since your gal¬ 
lant country began its battle for freedom,” the 
young man replied ardently. 

“All men seem to like to fight, monsieur,” I 
remarked. 

“Oh no, mademoiselle,” he denied quickly. “It 
is not the fighting I am in love with, but the cause. 
It is that which has brought me here. Listen, 
mademoiselle. Since I was a child, liberty and 
freedom have stirred my heart—yes, truly, since 
I was a little child. In my country I have a 
master, my king. Ever he has been kind to me 
and I have no wish that is not for his good; but 
my country will not always have a king, made¬ 
moiselle. Before I die, who can tell, even France 
may be a republic; but that I can not think will 

106 


A FRENCH GENTLEMAN 


happen while I live. Yet it must come in all 
lands. It is here it begins; and ah, mademoiselle, 
what would I not give to have a hand in its mak¬ 
ing ?” 

He stopped and sighed, looking out across the 
green fields as if indeed he saw a vision and it 
was beautiful. But his earnestness and sincerity 
were so evident that I felt that here was no paltry 
adventurer, after all, but a man carried away by 
a wonderful faith, who was ready to hazard all 
for the fulfilment of his desires. 

"And they will not let you join our army, mon¬ 
sieur ?” I asked. 

"They tell me there is no room,” he answered 
mournfully. "It seems not possible.” 

"But there are so many who have hurried from, 
oh, everywhere, monsieur,” I told him. "Saw 
you not that Philadelphia was overrun with for¬ 
eign officers?” 

"I have but just come,” he answered, "and since 
my arrival have seen little; but Decoudray I met, 
and if your gentlemen of Congress believe all he 
tells them—” 

"But they all say they are ready to die for the 
cause, monsieur,” I interrupted. 

107 





A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“Yes, that is so/’ he agreed. “It is a pity that 
the words are the same whether spoken by an 
honest man or a scoundrel. Liberty sounds just 
the same when I say it or when it is mouthed by 
a poltroon. But it is not the same, mademoiselle, 
and your gentlemen in Congress should be able to 
detect the difference.” 

“I know you have talked to them, for I saw 
you with some others in the park before the new 
state-house,” I said. 

“Yes,” he answered, with a touch of bitterness 
in his voice. “We sent word to Mr. Hancock, 
the President of your Congress, that we had come. 
He replied that Mr. Morris would attend to our 
case; and that gentleman sent us a Mr. Lovell, 
who took not even the trouble to invite us into 
shelter against the sun, but dismissed us briefly 
on the streets with word that we can be of no 
use to them. Ah, mademoiselle, you can have no 
idea of the humiliation! For myself I complain 
not, I am young; but there is the Baron de Kalb, 
who came with me. A wise man, old in the serv¬ 
ice of France. A fine general, ready to give his 
best for this country. Mademoiselle, it breaks 
my heart to think that they refused him. Of 

108 


A FRENCH GENTLEMAN 


what are they dreaming? It is unbelievable!” 

“I am sure that if you could see General Wash¬ 
ington—” I began, for it will be apparent that 
this young man had quite won me to his cause; 
but here he interrupted me. 

“Ah, General Washington!” he exclaimed, and 
his face lighted up with a new fire of enthusiasm. 
“Would that I could see him!” 

“I saw him night before last, monsieur,” I 
said, rather proud of myself and not taking pains 
to hide it. 

“Tell me what he is like, mademoiselle,” the 
young Frenchman begged. 

“That is not so easy, monsieur,” I replied, wrin¬ 
kling my brow. “You know that he is large, 
above the average. That he is grave of mien, 
and—but there is something more, monsieur, 
something which you can not put into words, 
something which you only feel.” 

“I know! I know!” cried the young man. “It 
is a sense of reverence, is it not?” 

“Something like that, but not quite,” I an¬ 
swered. “That sounds as if he were an angel or 
a saint. But he is n't that at all. He’s just like 
any other man, only—only different.” 

109 





A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

I laughed and so did the gentleman at my silly 
saying. 

“Ah, mademoiselle, it is so with all great per¬ 
sonages. They are like everybody else only— 
only different. Ah, but Monsieur Washington! 
What would I not give just to serve beside him! 
I care not for rank nor for money. Those things 
I have. Just to serve with General Washington, 
that is all I ask; mayhap, in time to come, that he 
may find I am useful to him and give me a com¬ 
mand of my own, which would please me more 
than I can say; but just to serve with him—that 
is all I ask.” 

“Have you told him that, monsieur?” I in¬ 
quired, for this did not sound like the proposal of 
an adventurer, and I could see naught that should 
prevent its acceptance. 

“Mademoiselle, I do not know what I have told 
Monsieur Lovell. I am so beside myself with dis¬ 
appointment and so hurt for my friend, the Baron 
de Kalb, and those other French boys who came 
with me, that I could not be calm. And Mon¬ 
sieur Lovell, he said he was very sorry, but noth¬ 
ing could be done. Always that—'Nothing can 
be done; very sorry!’ I ask not for sympathy, 

no 


A FRENCH GENTLEMAN 


but for a chance to work, to free this land from 
the English king!” 

"‘Monsieur,” I said, after a moment, “were I 
you, I should sit down and write a letter to the 
gentlemen of the Continental Congress and tell 
them what you have told me—that you care not 
for money or rank, but that you just ask to serve 
the cause near the person of Mr. Washington. 
That is what I should do.” 

"‘But will they listen?” he asked eagerly. 

“They will read, monsieur, at their leisure,” I 
explained. ""That is something gained at once. 
They will not be interrupted at what they are do¬ 
ing. A letter you can pick up at your conveni¬ 
ence. Then when they find you ask nothing but 
to serve, they will see you are not like the others. 
At any rate, monsieur, it can do no harm, I am 
sure, and in the end you are no worse off than 
you are now.” 

""Mademoiselle,” he cried, quite fired with this 
idea, ""I went out upon this walk quite desolate. 
I saw naught ahead of me but a return to France 
with a heart humiliated beyond words. You 
have given me hope. I go at once to my inn to 
write as you tell me.” 


hi 






A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


We had come into the city by this time and 
reached the place of parting. 

“Good luck to you, monsieur,” I said with a 
smile. 

“And to you a thousand thanks, made¬ 
moiselle,” he answered, saluting me with his hat 
doffed and a profound bow, which somewhat em¬ 
barrassed me, I confess, as there were many on 
the street who smiled as they looked. “I shall 
ever be in your debt. When I have finished my 
letter to your Congress I shall write my wife that 
a kind maid has put new courage in her husband.” 

“Your wife, monsieur?” I questioned, not able 
to hide my surprise, for he looked scarce out of 
school, younger indeed than Val. 

“Aye, to be sure!” he laughed at me. “I know 
what you think—that I am so young. It may be 
so, in years, but where I live we grow up very 
quickly. I have a little daughter in France, and 
my dear wife is as much a patriot as I and sent 
me here with a blessing. Her name, made¬ 
moiselle, may interest you. She is the Marquise 
de Lafayette.” 


112 


CHAPTER VIII 

TWO IN A MIRROR 


1 CONFESS to having been somewhat sur¬ 
prised to find that the simple French boy to 
whom I had given unasked advice was a marquis; 
but I was by no means put out of countenance 
thereby. Among us, there were lords a-plenty, of 
one sort or another, mostly arrogant men who 
were needy and who ridiculed the very people 
through whom they hoped to repair their fortunes; 
but these gentlemen were, to a man, for the king, 
and here was one who not only proclaimed his be¬ 
lief in a free government, but was willing to fight 
for one. That fact impressed me more than 
aught else he had said, and I might have spoken 
of it, but he left me ere I could recover from my 
surprise, and another incident put the young 
gentleman out of my thoughts for the moment. 
My Aunt Augusta’s chariot, very richly mounted 
and vastly stylish, passed at the instant the Mar¬ 
quis de Lafayette made his parting bow to me, 

ii3 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


and as I looked up I saw my aunt staring at us 
out of the window. There was a puzzled look on 
her countenance, and it was plain that she was 
not sure she recognized me. 

With Jinny, I hurried on to the house, but the 
occupants of the carriage were already entering 
when I arrived. 

“So, it was you, after all!’' were my aunt’s 
first words of greeting, spoken in her loud, harsh 
voice as she stood fronting me in the broad hall¬ 
way. 

“Yes, Aunt Augusta,” I replied as cheerfully 
as possible. “I’ve come to town to stay awhile 
with you.” 

“Oh, you have!” she blurted out, nowise pleased 
with this news. “Well, miss, if you are to be 
under my protection, let it be understood at once 
that I shall not permit you to walk in the streets 
with foreign adventurers.” 

“He is no adventurer, Aunt Augusta,” I re¬ 
plied, more warmly than my interest warranted. 
“I am sure he is a most sincere and earnest young 
Frenchman.” 

“Fiddlesticks!” my aunt burst out. 

“I thought him a vastly pretty gentleman,” 

114 


TWO IN A MIRROR 


came the voice of my cousin Rosalie, as she stole 
up beside me and circled my waist with her arm. 
“I was quite envious of you, Patty. And may¬ 
hap Mother was, too,” she ended with a light 
laugh. 

“Hold thy tongue, child,” Aunt Augusta ad¬ 
monished her daughter sharply; but I could not 
feel any start of fear upon the part of Rosalie, 
nor did she hold her tongue. 

“Tell me his name, Patty,” she went on 
roguishly: “I ’ll warrant’t is no common one,” 

“He is the Marquis de Lafayette,” I answered. 
“At least, he said his wife was the marquise, so 
I judged—” 

“A marquis!” shouted Rosalie; then, with a 
falling voice, “But if there is a marquise, we must 
e’en send him to the head of the table with the 
elders.” 

“Indeed, he shall not sit at my table,” Aunt 
Augusta declared roundly. “I ’ll have no rebels 
feasting in this house. And see you here, Patty 
Abbott,” she continued, turning on me rather 
fiercely; “I know the traitorous views your father 
holds toward our good King George, and I doubt 
not you hold similar ones; but let me warn you, 

ns 






A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


my girl, I ’ll have none of your whiggishness here. 
Understand that plainly. You may stay as long 
as you conform with the ways of the house and 
keep your rebel sentiments locked in your own 
bosom. Were you aught but a child, I should 
send you packing ere I would even seem to counte¬ 
nance an unruly spirit under this roof.” 

“Indeed, Aunt Augusta,” I cried, stung to 
anger at this speech, “ ’t is only because I have 
nowhere else to go that I am here at all!” 

At this she turned on me, doubtless to be as 
good as her word and send me packing, but 
Rosalie intervened. 

“Oh la, Mama!” she cried, “are we never to 
rest from politics? Must we have them for 
breakfast, dinner, and tea? I vow I’m fair sick 
of them. Come, Patty, let us to thy room and 
talk of something pleasant.” 

She led me quickly to the foot of the stairs and 
so up to my room, chattering merrily and giving 
me no chance to say a word; for which, indeed, 
I thanked her in my heart, seeing that I was 
angered by my aunt’s harshness and had forgot 
that I had made up my mind to submit in silence 
to just such encounters. I felt very grateful to 

116 


TWO IN A MIRROR 


Rosalie, in that her quick wit had saved me more 
unpleasantness. But she stopped not her gossip¬ 
ing when we reached my room. 

“I vow, Patty, I ? m right glad you Ve come,” 
she rattled on. “I know naught and care less of 
this great pother between the king and the 
colonies, save that it spoils all our fun. None 
talk of aught but politics, and all the young men 
are serving in one camp or the other and strut 
around in their uniforms to be admired. I vow I 
shall be glad when it is done, whether ’t is a silly 
king or a stupid congress rules over us. But 
now a truce to all such dry subjects. Let’s have 
a look at thy gear, child. Those are matters that 
a female can take some pleasure in discussing.” 

I can not give any idea of the sprightliness of 
my gay cousin Rosalie. That she won my heart 
at once was natural enough, for whereas I had 
expected a proud and haughty girl who would 
patronize me for a clumsy country maid and sneer 
at my lack of fashion, I found one who, although 
three years my elder, treated me with no hint 
of superiority and was as simple as I. In fact, 
she seemed in some ways younger; for I, having 
been brought up to discuss all serious questions 

ii 7 





A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


with Father, found Rosalie interested in naught 
but what pertained to the lightest pleasures. 
Dresses, balls, routs, tea-drinkings, dancing- 
parties, and a great desire to go to a play were 
the things she was always ready to enlarge upon; 
but the more sober duties of life she would have 
none of, and politics of any sort she shunned even 
to name. In my mind I put her down as a 
feather-witted young lady, intent upon her own 
pleasure and vastly more concerned with her 
adornment than with the government of her coun¬ 
try or the just treatment its citizens craved. 

I soon grew to love her, in spite of the fact 
that her indifference to serious things sometimes 
shocked me sorely. Once or twice I tried to 
bring her to take an interest in the great con¬ 
troversy, thinking that, if once she heard our 
side of the case, she must be convinced that the 
Revolution was no mere outbreak of a few dis¬ 
contented orators; but she would have none of it, 
and held her hand across my mouth, vowing that, 
if I so much as began, she would go away and 
never come back. 

When we came down to dinner I gave 
Aunt Augusta the letter I had brought from 

118 


TWO IN A MIRROR 


Father and she read it through with a frown. 

“He ’s vastly secret a*bout his mission,” she 
burst out at the end, with a sneering laugh; “as 
if we did n't know that he sailed on the Saucy 
Sally, two nights ago, and fares for France to 
see that prating old politician, Dr. Franklin. A 
secret mission indeed!” 

“But how could you know, Aunt Augusta?” I 
exclaimed, vastly astonished. 

“We know all things,” she retorted harshly. 
“ ’T is the business of the king’s loyal subjects to 
know his enemies and their goings and comings. 
See to it that you step carefully, else the end is 
sure and the retribution certain.” 

Thus I began my stay in that house, and I con¬ 
fess to having been somewhat frightened at this 
omniscience of Aunt Augusta’s. Evidently, the 
British spies were everywhere, and my aunt’s 
house seemed to be a center for the Tory intrigues 
that went on in secret throughout the city. 

Of my Uncle Robert Roberts I saw little. He 
was there at dinner, but he scarcely noticed me 
and kept up a continual hum of light gossip with 
my aunt and Rosalie, who answered him in like 
vein; but only, I fancy, to keep him amused, for, 

119 





A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


when he left the house, there was always a sigh 
of relief that he had quitted it. He belonged to 
a club that had rooms in the Indian Queen Inn, 
I think; and there a number of macaronis, to his 
liking, met and discussed the changes in men’s 
fashions and deplored the scarcity of such news 
from England. I am sure he had little part in 
the constant plotting that went on around him. 

That there were conspiracies afoot I was soon 
aware, although the purport of them I could only 
guess at; but there were comings and goings of 
secret messengers; sudden muffled soundings of 
the knocker at night would waken me, and I 
would hear distant movements and occasionally a 
stealthy step along the hall. The house was a 
large one, and the old nursery on the top floor 
did service as a parlor for me, where frequently 
I had Rosalie for company, although she was 
forced, she said, to leave me now and then when 
there were guests of note in the drawing-rooms 
below. 

I do not think that at any time any real con¬ 
spiracies originated in the house in Philadelphia. 
I soon arrived at the conclusion, though by what 
reasoning I can not say, that the trips to Harro- 

120 


TWO IN A MIRROR 


gate were entirely political, and that it was in 
her country house that my aunt set on foot what 
plans she made looking to the complete restora¬ 
tion of King George in our colonies; for that she 
was deep in such intrigues I had not the slight¬ 
est doubt. Indeed, she made no attempt to hide 
this from me, satisfied that, so long as I had no 
actual fact to hang an accusation upon, I could 
hardly do her injury were I so minded; for that 
she was against the Congress was already known 
to every one in Philadelphia, and she scrupled 
not to express her opinion loudly upon every oc¬ 
casion, thus perchance bringing them to name 
her as noisy, but harmless. 

Why those in authority took no measures to 
put a stop to such plottings, I know not, though 
my belief is that they considered my aunt’s activi¬ 
ties quite trivial and cared not to turn a may¬ 
hap embarrassing partizan into a martyr who 
would gain sympathy out of all proportion to 
her importance. 

The days which I spent in that house were, in 
spite of what I have said, a rare delight to me be¬ 
cause of my fondness for my cousin; and al¬ 
though I could not interest Rosalie in what I con- 


121 






A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

sidered the important concerns of life, she gained 
my attention when she talked of the things she 
vowed a girl should think most upon. It would 
have been strange indeed had I, at fifteen years, 
scorned pretty gowns, fine laces, and brocades. 
Indeed, I loved them the more, perchance, be¬ 
cause I had been starved of such vain pleasures 
all my life. Not from lack of means to buy them, 
for Father would have stinted naught to pleasure 
me, but mainly because, in my busy life at Spring- 
hill, other interests claimed my attention. Thus 
when I had naught else to do but to satisfy a curi¬ 
osity suddenly stimulated by Rosalie’s vanities, 
I was nigh as ready as she to waste my time and 
substance in fallals and fripperies, and to enjoy 
myself to the full in satisfying my desires, with¬ 
out the thought I should have given to what the 
money so expended would have done for our 
cause. I must accuse myself of this, with the 
poor excuse that fifteen is not a great age after 
all. 

From the beginning of my visit, Rosalie took 
vast pleasure in dressing me up in her finery, 
first in one gown and then another. She fixed 
my hair this way and that, discoursed upon my 

122 


TWO IN A MIRROR 


looks and countrified ways and how to correct 
them; she taught me the steps of the minuet, and 
all in such a sweet fashion that I knew not myself 
that I was being instructed in those little refine¬ 
ments of manner that experience had denied me. 

‘‘Now, Patty, my dear,” she would say, “we 
will pretend that I am Mr. Montague Chalmers 
and that I have come to take you to the Assem¬ 
bly. ‘Ah, *pon my soul, Miss Patty, my eyes 
are ravished at sight of you. I vow the beaux 
will envy me to-night/ ” Thus she would go on 
imitating the high-pitched voice of the dandy, and 
strutting about as if holding a quizzing-glass to 
her eyes; at which, at first, I would start 
a-laughing and she would scold me roundly. 

“How think you, Patty, you will ever learn, 
an you act like that?” she would cry. “You 
may not laugh down your beaux in society. It 
is not mannerly. Hold up your head, child, and 
look at every man above his collar. There, that 
is better! Now, while I bow, slightly lower 
your eyes and incline your head an inch, not more 
—so! Now we will go on.” 

But such games were not all I delighted in. 
Rosalie would have it that my wardrobe needed re- 

123 



A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


plenishing, and to this end she introduced me to 
the mysteries of fine shopping. Together we went 
from store to store, handling silks, satins, sarse¬ 
nets, and lutestrings, and spending vastly more 
than I should have done upon such vain luxuries. 

My cousin was bent, also, upon having a dress 
made of the same material as one I had chosen, a 
paduasoy, vastly elegant it was, and Rosalie would 
not rest until she had fetched in a seamstress and 
had the gowns made up alike. 

The day they were finished she proposed that 
we both arrange our hair high upon our heads 
and powder it. 

“As Peggy Shippen does hers,” she explained, 
"though I love it not so monstrous high as Peggy 
wears it.” 

“But we have no glass butterflies or other orna¬ 
ments,” I said regretfully. 

“Have we not, indeed?” and she flew to her 
room, to come back with a box of them. 

“Oh, where did you get them, Rosalie?” I cried. 

“I Ve had them for long, Miss,” she replied 
haughtily. “I Ve been keeping them for a fit¬ 
ting occasion.” 

We set to work, each helping the other, and a 

124 


TWO IN A MIRROR 


fine mess we made with the flour; but we accom¬ 
plished it, and then naught would do but that we 
should put on our paduasoys and see if they be¬ 
came us. Rosalie ran to her room to attire her¬ 
self, and Jinny, who helped in all these plays of 
ours, held up my skirts, which I managed to glide 
under, getting my head through the placket with¬ 
out disturbing the vast structure erected upon it, 
wherein I felt that I had accomplished wonders, 
and after that I was soon ready. 

“Come here,” Rosalie called from her own 
room, and I went to her at once. 

It ill becomes me, in the circumstances, to pro¬ 
claim how lovely she looked, so I will say naught 
of it, but as I went in she held out a hand to me 
and, in sport, I took it and curtsied over it. She 
lifted me up and, turning, led me to the long 
glass that reached nigh to the floor. Thus, hand 
in hand, we moved toward it, and our reflections 
came toward us. A few feet away we halted, 
and Rosalie was for curtsying to our two images; 
but I stopped, looking in the glass quite bewil¬ 
dered. 

“What’s the matter, Patty?” Rosalie asked. 

“Why, don't you see, Rosalie,” I cried, when I 

125 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


found my voice, “don’t you see? We ’re exactly 
alike—we ’re like sisters—twin sisters!” 

“ ’T is your hair being up does it. Have n’t 
you noticed it before, silly?” she replied. 

“No,” I answered, “have you?” 

“From the moment I saw you,” she laughed. 
“We could easily be taken for each other.” 

The close resemblance so startled me that I 
could not get it out of my head. We were exactly 
of a height. The color of our hair was the 
same. Our faces were so close a match that it 
would be hard, were we dressed alike, to say this 
is Rosalie or that is Patty. Talk not to me of 
beauty unadorned. In my plain country frocks, 
Patty was so vastly inferior to Rosalie that I 
knew not even that we resembled each other; but 
in silks and satins, with powdered hair piled high 
and gleaming with fragile ornaments, the likeness 
took me aback. 

“Ah, Patty,” said Rosalie, saucily, “I fear I 
have set thee thinking too much upon thy own 
beauty. Vanity, my child, is one of the deadliest 
of sins, as my Quaker friend, Tom Wharton, told 
me when I refused to marry him and become a 
Quaker, too.” 


126 



' , .. 



“We’re exactly alike—we’re like sisters—twin sisters!” 




















































TWO IN A MIRROR 


“Indeed, Rosalie,” I confessed dolefully, “I 
think thou art right. I find myself much engaged 
with speculation upon thy beauty.” 

“My beauty, indeed!” she flashed back, and 
then, throwing up her head, laughed gaily. “My 
country girl is growing apace, but do not think 
to dodge vanity by bestowing your admiration 
upon me.” 

“And why not?” I asked. “ ’T is no sin to 
think another is comely.” 

“Nay, that’s true,” Rosalie admitted. “But 
what would you feel were I to say I fancied you 
the most beautiful girl in Philadelphia?” 

“I should say you were right,” I laughed back; 
“excepting only one other,” I added, and ran 
from her to my own room. 

It was evening of that same afternoon when, 
upon my way to the dining-room for our usual 
light supper, in passing Aunt Augusta's cham¬ 
ber door, I heard her speaking to some one in¬ 
side. 

“I tell you, he will be here to-night!” 

“But why is he coming?” I heard Rosalie ques¬ 
tion, and there was an irritable note in her voice 
which I had never noticed before. 

127 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“Probably to explain why he failed,” said Aunt 
Augusta. 

“Does he fancy we are interested in excuses?” 
Rosalie returned. What further she said, I know 
not, for I was by that time out of earshot; but I 
was puzzled at the anger in her voice. Never, 
in our short acquaintance, had Rosalie seemed to 
care enough about anything to be angry over it. 

But there was no evidence, when we all assem¬ 
bled at the table, that aught unusual was to¬ 
ward. Rosalie was as dainty and as indifferent 
to serious things as ever, and chattered lightly 
of a dance the Chews were giving. Aunt Au¬ 
gusta was more silent than usual, but seemed in 
no wise concerned over anything secret; so that 
I forgot about the conversation I had overheard. 

We were about half-way through our meal 
when the knocker sounded, and presently Small, 
the butler, came and whispered to Aunt Augusta. 

“Fetch him in at once and set another place,” 
she commanded, and the servant disappeared into 
the hall again. 

In another moment the new arrival stepped into 
the dining-room and I, all unprepared, looked up 
to see Major Tarlton, dressed in citizen’s clothes. 

128 


CHAPTER IX 

I LOSE A DOLL AND A FRIEND 


A T the sight of Major Tarlton entering the 
dining-room, I jumped to my feet in a sort 
of panic, and he, recognizing me at once, stopped 
short and for an instant gazed into my eyes in 
utter amazement. But only for an instant did 
he pause, then, suddenly alert, he glanced about 
him suspiciously. 

“What is this? Some trick?” he cried out. 
“Trick!” echoed Aunt Augusta, rising also. 
“What mean you, Mr. Black?” 

“Nay, there 's no need to name me Black,” he 
retorted. “The young lady knows I am—” 
“Stop!” exclaimed my aunt, loudly, breaking 
in upon the other's speech. “Wait till we 're 
alone. Small,” she went on, “leave the room and 
shut the door behind you.” 

In silence we waited till the butler had quitted 
us; and though it could not have been half a 
minute we stood thus, it seemed to me I had 

129 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


never known a man could cross a room so slowly. 

When he was gone, Aunt Augusta sat down 
and spoke again to Tarlton. “Now what is it 
you have to say?” she demanded peremptorily. 

“Nay, Madam, I think the explanation is due 
to me,” he returned evenly, his coolness coming 
back to him. “ ’T is evident that you were not 
aware that Miss Patty Abbott and I are—not old 
friends, exactly, but we have seen each other 
more than once. And, I may add, this was the 
last house in which I expected to renew our ac¬ 
quaintance.” 

“ ’T is not unnatural, however, that she should 
be here, seeing that she is my niece,” Aunt Au¬ 
gusta retorted; “but how comes it you have any 
acquaintance with her?” 

“You may remember something of an expedi¬ 
tion upon the Gloucester road that was planned 
for some few days ago, Madam,” he said. 

“Well planned and vilely executed,” declared 
Aunt Augusta, scathingly. “But what has that 
to do with this girl?” 

“ ’T was in her house we discovered our mis¬ 
take, Madam,” he explained. “In the dark—” 

“Oh, spare me excuses, Mr. Tarlton,” said 

130 



I LOSE DOLL AND FRIEND 


Aunt Augusta, insolently; “nor is it necessary to 
go into further details of the matter. If to ex¬ 
cuse your failure is your reason for being here 
to-night, you might have saved yourself a hard 
ride and avoided certain risks to your precious 
skin.” 

It was quite evident that Aunt Augusta was 
very angry and at no pains to hide it. Doubt¬ 
less, she would have talked the same way before 
Sir William Howe or King George himself, if she 
had felt so inclined, for she feared no one on earth 
and spoke her mind, counting neither the cost to 
herself nor the feelings she might chance to hurt. 

Mr. Tarlton flushed crimson under her taunt, 
but held himself in check, and, when he spoke, 
seemed not unduly ruffled. 

“My errand here had naught to do with that 
mission, Madam,” he said. “It concerns a cer¬ 
tain Continental dollar-bill.” 

“Have a care, sir, before the child,” my 
aunt cried, struck of a sudden out of her self- 
possession. 

“Nay,” laughed Tarlton, grimly, “Miss Patty 
knows more about it than I do.” 

“What do you mean?” demanded Aunt Au- 

131 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


gusta, much agitated. “Tell me instantly. ’T is 
no matter to bandy words about. How comes 
my niece to know aught of it?” 

“You mean she hasn’t told you?” he asked; 
and seeing by the expression of my aunt’s face 
that no answer to this was necessary, he went on. 
“Then Mistress Patty has not changed her poli¬ 
tics with her residence.” 

“What have the child’s politics to do with 
this?” asked my aunt. 

“You seem to forget, Madam, that, if I am 
taken in this city, I shall be promptly hung as a 
spy,” Tarlton said with calm deliberation. “Miss 
Patty, I doubt not, fancies she owes me a debt 
of ill will for certain inconveniences suffered by 
her father. Nor could I altogether blame her 
for denouncing me, even though—” 

“Have done with this talk,” my aunt broke in. 
“Whatever my niece’s political opinions may be, 
I guarantee they shall not interfere with you. 
She is in my house and—” 

“But she may not stay in your house,” Major 
Tarlton interrupted. 

“And why not, if I am so minded?” said my 
aunt. “Think you I would hesitate to keep her 

132 


I LOSE DOLL AND FRIEND 


here if there were need ? It was not my wish that 
she should have known aught of this business, 
but that has been taken out of my hands. Rest 
assured, however, that too many grave matters 
hang on it to let me run any risks, and, if need 
arise, the child shall stay here until this little war 
is over. Now proceed, sir; you have naught to 
fear.” 

This assumption that Mr. Tarlton was fearful 
of something stung the young man, and I think 
my aunt was well aware that it would when she 
hinted at it. 

“Madam,” he said, “if I seem to display a cer¬ 
tain prudence, I should prefer not to have it at¬ 
tributed to cowardice. I can, and have, risked 
my life as well as another’s, but I am no more in¬ 
clined than is any other to walk into traps.” 

“Have done and get to the meat of the busi¬ 
ness,” Aunt Augusta railed at him. “You were 
pleased to mention a Continental dollar-bill. 
What has happened to it?” 

“I have it,” Tarlton replied calmly. 

“You have it!” she cried in amazement. “Why 
did you not deliver it into the hands it was meant 
for?” 


133 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“Because, as it happened,” Tarlton explained, 
“I found upon examination that it would have 
been a useless procedure. There was no message 
within it.” 

“Impossible!” cried my aunt, in a fury. “Im¬ 
possible, I say! Useless, indeed, you wish me to 
infer that you, yourself, have turned traitor!” 

“I care not what you infer, Madam,” Tarlton 
answered angrily, at last losing his temper at her 
constant taunts, “but this much you may learn 
to your profit: Miss Patty Abbott, there, can in¬ 
form you as to what has become of that same 
message.” 

Aunt Augusta turned to me in amazement, her 
mouth half open as if to speak, and yet so sur¬ 
prised was she that no words issued from it. 

“I see you do not know what has happened, 
Madam / 1 Tarlton continued. “It is quickly ex¬ 
plained. I dropped the bill, in the midst of some 
disorder at Mistress Abbott’s house, and, finding 
it gone, returned from South Amboy and asked 
if she had seen it ? She said she had it and, with¬ 
out more ado, gave me the bill, explaining that 
she had picked it up from the floor after our de¬ 
parture. I was rejoiced to recover it, but, rid- 

134 


I LOSE DOLL AND FRIEND 


ing alone in the dark, I had an opportunity for 
reflection, and a recollection of something in Mis¬ 
tress Patty’s manner set my suspicions alight. I 
stopped at the house of a friend and made certain 
that the bill had been opened, its contents re¬ 
moved, and that then it had been neatly put to¬ 
gether again. I hastened back with all speed, but 
Miss Patty had left the house with her maid and 
her steward. No one knew whither she had gone, 
and there was naught for it but to retrace my 
steps, empty-handed.” 

Aunt Augusta turned to me sharply. “Is this 
true, Patty?” she demanded. 

“Quite true, Aunt,” I returned. 

“Then you have this message Major Tarlton 
speaks of?” 

“Yes, I have it,” I replied, knowing that it was 
useless to enter a denial, and saving all my 
strength for the struggle I saw coming. 

Aunt Augusta gave a sigh of relief and ad¬ 
dressed Major Tarlton. 

“It ’s all right, sir,” she said calmly. “It is 
fortunate you came and told us. Patty, run up 
stairs and fetch that message.” She spoke as if 
it were the simplest thing in the world, of no more 

135 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


moment than if she had asked me to go for a reel 
of thread. So sure did she seem that I should 
obey her without question that I could not sup¬ 
press a light laugh, though it was more from 
nervousness than because I felt that there was 
any humor in the situation. Yet was it funny 
to note how certain Aunt Augusta was, when I 
myself was just as set in opposition. 

“What are you laughing at, child?” she de¬ 
manded, and there was a sharp edge to the words. 

“I was thinking, Aunt, that I should prefer to 
keep that message,” I replied, as calmly as I could, 
and waited for the storm to break. But it still 
hung in the wind. 

“My child,” she said, soothingly, “there has 
been a vast pother made over a private matter; 
and if you have gathered that the message I seek 
is of some value, there is small blame to you. 
But, I assure you, you will only injure yourself 
and do no good to any one by persistence in refus¬ 
ing my request.” 

“And yet I must refuse, Aunt,” I replied stub¬ 
bornly. 

Just then, for the first time since Mr. Tarlton 
had come into the room, Rosalie seemed to waken 

136 


I LOSE DOLL AND FRIEND 


to what was going on. With a yawn she rose 
to her feet. 

“Oh, these silly politics!” she cried. “Are they 
never to end ? And now poor dear Patty is mixed 
up with them. I vow I ’ll listen no longer. I’m 
going upstairs. Seek me there, Patty, if they 
ever let you off this stupid quizzing.” And with¬ 
out a nod or a word more to any of us, she quitted 
the room. 

But as she went, there came into my heart a 
sudden suspicion that Rosalie was not always 
what she pretended. I remembered the sound of 
her voice as I had passed her mother’s chamber 
that very night. There was no hint in the tone 
in which she then spoke that politics were so dull 
to her as she was wont to make others believe. 
She had spoken tersely, and I knew now that it 
was to Major Tarlton her words referred. Was 
she so good an actress that, under her guileless, 
childlike interest in fashions and balls and routs, 
she hid the same fierce desire to aid the king that 
her mother displayed so openly? 

I had scant leisure for this sort of reflection. 
Aunt Augusta swung to the attack with a right 
good will, and for the next half-hour we were at 

137 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


it, hammer and tongs. She coaxed, threatened, 
wheedled in turn, to all of which I turned a deaf 
ear, telling her roundly that I should not give up 
the message. Nor would I admit that it was in 
my possession, there in her house, and for a time 
she suspected that I had left it at Springhill and 
was for going thither at once; but on second 
thought she arrived nearer the truth, assenting 
rather grudgingly, it seemed to me, to Major 
Tarlton’s suggestion that, having come into pos¬ 
session of so important a document, I should not 
have left it behind me. 

“Very good, then, stubborn girl!” she an¬ 
nounced finally, “we’ll see who is mistress of this 
house. Go to your room! When you have re¬ 
pented and will give me that for which I ask, you 
may come out. Until then, step not across the 
threshold! There will be bread and water 
brought you as a cure for your stiff neck. Now 
go!” she ended furiously, pointing to the door 
with her stick. “Go, I say, and let me not see 
your face again till you have come to reason.” 

I escaped to my room, not so frightened as 
might have been expected, seeing that, indeed, 
my aunt was a most fearsome object when she 

138 


I LOSE DOLL AND FRIEND 

was in a rage; but I ran in and locked my door, 
glad to be alone. 

For a time I was too overwrought by the scene 
I had just been through to think of anything very 
clearly. My head and my heart, too, were in a 
whirl. My aunt’s accusations and threats still 
echoed in my brain, and a dreadful feeling of 
catastrophe seized me. At length I grew calm, 
and, though I liked not the thought of bread and 
water as a daily diet, nor indeed to be kept pris¬ 
oner in my room for I knew not how long, still 
that menace seemed not quite real, nor was I 
greatly alarmed by it. 

Then of a sudden my thoughts went back to 
Rosalie. Could my suspicions of her be true? 
I looked around the room for a moment, where all 
seemed as I had left it. Naught had been dis¬ 
turbed. So far, so good; but I was not yet quite 
satisfied. I jumped up and ran to my portmantle 
in one corner and jerked up the lid. In it was my 
undergear, all as evenly packed as I had left it; 
but one object I must make certain was still there, 
and thrusting my hand down the side, I felt 
around for the rag doll. 

My fingers found it not. Almost madly I 

139 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


began to tumble the things out upon the floor and 
in a few moments the box was empty and still 
my rag baby was lacking; but, turned up with the 
contents of the box, sticking in a flannel skirt I 
had brought with me, was a small clasp-pin which 
was not mine. 

I picked it up to look at it and recognized it at 
once as one which belonged to Rosalie. I could 
not doubt that she had been there and that my 
doll was in her possession. Rosalie, to whom my 
heart had gone out as to a sister, was false! 
With a sob I threw myself across the bed and 
wept like a child. 


140 


CHAPTER X 

BREAD AND WATER 

I T must have been at least an hour before I re¬ 
covered sufficient control to undress and go 
to bed. The scene in the dining-room with Aunt 
Augusta had taxed my fortitude to the limit, for 
defiance to so fiery and autocratic a woman as 
Madam Roberts was not offered without the ex¬ 
penditure of much nervous force. 

But to find that Rosalie had been deceiving me 
all this time was a bitter blow, the more so in that 
she had won my love. Her ridicule of politics 
had been a sham. It was all too plain that she 
was as deep in plotting against our cause as was 
her mother. She had deceived me to win my af¬ 
fection, well knowing that I was a patriot. It 
would have been better had she been open with 
me. I could have allowed for an honest differ¬ 
ence of opinion, and we might have agreed to 
say naught of the matter between ourselves; but 
deliberately to feign an indifference she was far 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

from feeling—that was impossible to forgive. 

As I lay awake, going over in my mind the 
events of the day and trying to piece together the 
consequences of my acts, I soon found that my 
interest in the secret message was not profound 
and that the loss of it did not particularly disturb 
me. To be sure, the actions of Aunt Augusta 
and her determination to have it, even if she had 
to keep me a prisoner on bread and water, showed 
all too plainly that to her, at least, it was of ex¬ 
treme importance. It might be that in the hands 
of one of our leaders it would prove a dangerous 
weapon against the Tories and result in the exile, 
or even worse, of a number of them. It might 
hold proof that those families who were suspected 
of plotting and spying for the king were indeed 
in the thick of it; but I had no wish to see Aunt 
Augusta sent out of the country or to jail. I 
should not have given it up to them voluntarily, 
but, now that they had it, I did not seem greatly 
to care. No, it was Rosalie’s action that made 
my heart sore, and I thought then that never in 
my life would I trust any one again. 

But on the morrow, when I awoke after a 
troubled sleep I changed my mind. I wanted 

142 


BREAD AND WATER 


that message back, and, failing that, I meant to 
tel] Rosalie just what I thought of her treachery 
and then leave the house forthwith. When I re¬ 
membered my cousin’s drawling protests against 
politics and how, despite those protests, the mo¬ 
ment she had quitted the dining-room she had run 
to my chamber to search through my belongings, 
I grew exasperated and angry. 

I had hardly dressed myself when there came 
a knock on the door and, upon opening it, I found 
Mrs. McDonald on the threshold, carrying a 
tray covered with a napkin. She came in with¬ 
out a word, set her burden down on the small 
table, then turned to go out. 

“What is this?” I demanded in no pleasant 
voice. The woman had taken an air of hostility 
toward me from the first; but I did not propose 
to submit tamely to her rudeness. 

“ ’T is your breakfast, Miss,” she answered in 
a sullen tone. 

“I shall have breakfast with the family,” I 
said, going toward the dressing-table. 

“Madam Roberts and Miss Rosalie have left 
for Elarrogate, and there will be no breakfast 
downstairs this morning,” she told me, with a 

143 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


sharp note of malice in her tone. And while I 
stood with my back to her, thinking what I should 
say to put this insolent servant in her place, I 
heard her take the key out of the lock, and whip¬ 
ping through, close the door. Thus, before I 
comprehended what she was about, the key was 
turned from the outside and I was, in truth, a 
prisoner in my own room. There followed a 
grim laugh and the sound of the footsteps of the 
woman as she went away. 

So Aunt Augusta had put her threat into exe¬ 
cution! I had never half believed she would do 
it; but the door was locked, and on a sudden im¬ 
pulse I went to the tray of breakfast and pulled 
off the cover. Bread and water! 

For a moment or two I fumed, my pride out¬ 
raged as I had never thought possible. Then I 
began to consider my situation. 

“Why,” I argued to myself, “should Aunt Au¬ 
gusta keep me confined after Rosalie had found 
the message she was so desirous of obtaining?” 
And then I saw that Madam Roberts had given 
Mrs. McDonald her orders before she knew of 
Rosalie’s success, and had been too indifferent to 
countermand them. “Let her stay in her room 

144 


BREAD AND WATER 


on bread and water for a day,” I fancied I could 
hear my aunt saying. “It will do the saucy chit 
good.” 

When it came time for the midday meal I ex¬ 
pected Mrs. McDonald back with more bread and 
water, and I was resolved when once she opened 
the door she would have extreme difficulty in lock¬ 
ing it again, for I did not mean to let her keep 
me penned in, even if I had a struggle with her. 

A plan entered my head, and with this in mind 
I took a stand beside the door and waited. The 
minutes dragged by unendingly and she came not. 
Suddenly I bethought me that I was in no wise 
prepared to leave the house, and, with a panicky 
haste, I made ready to depart forthwith if I 
should succeed in escaping. I changed my dress 
and put on stout shoes, then, taking all the hard 
money I had by me and putting on my hat, I ran 
back to my place. 

For a long hour more I waited, my body grow¬ 
ing tired from the erect position I maintained 
so that I might be more alert and ready on the 
instant; and then I began to bethink me of what 
an absurd plan I was counting on. With my 
heart sinking with discouragement, I concluded 

145 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

that Mrs. McDonald would not be such a fool as 
to give me this chance. Either she would not 
come at all, or, if she did, I felt sure she 
would take every precaution against any of the 
paltry tricks I might think of to surprise her. 
There I was a prisoner, and there I was like to 
stay until my aunt should be pleased to let me out 
again. What a silly girl I had been to hope that 
so simple a plan as I had hatched would be suc¬ 
cessful. And as I came to that conclusion, there 
was a step in the hall without, and a moment later 
I heard the key grate in the lock. 

And the unbelievable part of it all was that ex¬ 
actly what I had hoped for happened. I stood 
rigid and tense beside the door, and Airs. AIc- 
Donald pushed it open and boldly walked in, hold¬ 
ing a tray in her two hands. I let her take a few 
steps into the room, and then, with all my force, 
I ran at her and pushed her from behind. So un¬ 
expected was my attack that she lost her balance, 
the tray tipped, and its contents fell to the floor 
with a clatter, and the next moment I was in the 
hall, turning the key upon my jailer. For an 
instant I paused, panting with excitement, and 
then I fled to the head of the stairs. 

146 


BREAD AND WATER 


There I halted and drew back in a panic of 
anxiety, for some one was coming up, running 
lightly. I flattened myself against the wall, hop¬ 
ing that the shadows might conceal me; but to 
my great joy, it was only Jinny, who started to 
speed past me toward my room. Desperately I 
clutched her arm. 

“Jinny!’' I whispered, “where are you going?” 

“Oh, Miss Patty, is it you?” she murmured. 
“I was jes’ gwin’ to your room, hoping that that 
Mis’ McDonald woman would let me speak to my 
missus. She said you was locked up there and 
would n’t be let out no way.” 

“I was, but I’m out now, Jinny, and we ’re go¬ 
ing to leave this house at once. Run and get 
your shawl. I ’ll wait for you at the front door.” 

“I don’t need no shawl, Miss Patty. Take 
Jinny ’jes as she am, for I ’dare I’m scared of 
this here mansion.” 

I took her at her word, and together we fled 
down the stairs and so out of the house on the 
run. Nor did we stop until we were a good three 
streets away, and a turn for every street. 

Having escaped, I did not mean to be taken 
again an I could help it. Indeed, once outside, I 

T 47 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


thought it hardly likely that any one of that 
household would care to make a disturbance out 
of doors, and I vowed that there should be con¬ 
siderable disturbance ere I returned there. Had 
my aunt been by, I was by no means certain that 
she would not have made an attempt to seize me 
in the face of all Philadelphia, but she, I was 
glad to remember, was in Frankford. 

It was not until we had turned into the park 
before the state-house that we paused to take 
breath; then we found a shady and secluded spot, 
and I sat down to think things over. 

Now, although I felt that fleeing from the 
house of Aunt Augusta was a fine thing in itself, 
at the back of my head there was the annoying 
fact that there must be something to follow. 
Having left it, where was I to go? My promise 
to Father that I would stay with Aunt Augusta, 
I knew myself justified in breaking. I was sure 
he would not wish me to put up with the treat¬ 
ment to which I had been subjected, and my con¬ 
science was not at all uneasy on that count; but 
I realized that Father’s desire was not so much 
that I stay with Aunt Augusta as that I stay not 
alone at Springhill. Or, to put it the other way, 

148 


BREAD AND WATER 


that I stay in Philadelphia, where he felt that I 
should be in a community not likely to be sub¬ 
jected to such indignities as the Hessians had in¬ 
flicted on the Jerseys during the previous winter. 
I wanted to go back to Haddonfield. Our coun¬ 
try home was the only place where I could be 
really happy, but I had promised Father I would 
remain in Philadelphia and had not a thought of 
breaking my word. 

But where should I stay in the city? That 
was no easy question to answer. For the night 
or for several nights, if need be, I could find 
lodgings among respectable people, so that I had 
no fear of lacking a roof over our heads; but at 
the end of that time I should be no better off, 
for, truth to tell, I knew of no one to whom I 
could turn for protection, as by right, except my 
Aunt Augusta, and I was like to need protection 
from her. All my life, Father had kept to our 
estate in Haddonfield. I had always felt that 
there was some reason to explain why he had 
shunned any sort of society. Not that he was 
unfriendly, not that at all, for he made all wel¬ 
come at Springhill and seemed pleased when 
guests came; but naught save the necessities of 

149 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


business ever took him away from home, and I 
could think of none with whom he was intimate. 

I do not know how I had gained the impression 
that Father had been very popular and fashion¬ 
able when he was a young man and the family 
lived together in Philadelphia. Doubtless it was 
some chance gossip I had overheard as a child; 
but I know that something happened, and, at my 
grandfather’s death, Father took the estate at 
Springhill as his inheritance, and had remained 
there ever since in comparative seclusion. All 
this explains, in a measure, how it came that, 
when I stopped to think of it, there was no home 
where I could ask a welcome in the Quaker City; 
and rack my brains as I might, I could not decide 
what my next move ought to be. Of one thing 
only was I certain—nothing should drive me back 
to Aunt Augusta! 

As I sat there in deep thought, studying the 
ground as if I expected to read there a solution 
of my difficulties, I came to myself with a start 
to hear some one saying: 

“Ah, now this is good fortune! Mademoiselle, 
I have gained my commission.” 

The words were in French, and I looked up into 

150 


BREAD AND WATER 


the beaming face of the Marquis de Lafayette. 
He was radiant. His face shone with such pride 
and happiness that none could see it and not feel 
glad, too. 

“Oh, I am so rejoiced to hear that, monsieur!” 
I exclaimed, rising and giving him my hand. 
“That is indeed good news.” 

I noticed that he was dressed much more ele¬ 
gantly than when I had seen him first, and that 
he looked the high-bred gentleman he later proved 
himself to be. 

“Oh, mademoiselle, it is such a pleasure that I 
meet you again, for it was your advice that 
brought me this, my greatest wish!” he went on 
enthusiastically. “When I was in despair you 
told me what to do, and I did it. Behold, I am a 
major-general in the army of America! Is it 
not the greatest honor, mademoiselle?” 

“It is indeed heartening to have your greatest 
wish.” 

“Of course,” he went on rapidly, “they have 
not given me a division yet. That were too much 
to expect; but I am to meet his Excellency, the 
General Washington, to-night at dinner, and I 
think he will let me serve him as a special aide. I 

I5i 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


shall beg him on my knees if need be. Mademoi¬ 
selle, I am so happy, I could dance.” 

“It is a little public here for a major-general 
to dance,” I cautioned him with a smile. “I do 
not think the people would understand.” 

“That is all that keeps me from doing it,” he 
answered gaily. “I would not offend these strict 
Quakers, mademoiselle; but perchance you are 
one of them,” he bethought himself anxiously, 
his face suddenly sobering. “I do not think they 
are really so very bad, you know, only—only—” 

“Nay, I am no Quaker, monsieur,” I said, 
smiling at his embarrassment. “You might 
dance all day and it would not put me out of 
countenance.” 

“Word of honor, mademoiselle, I scarce know 
what I am doing. Such happiness! A major- 
general, and I not yet twenty! It is something, 
mademoiselle, it is something! Ah, how Madame 
la Marquise will be proud.” 

“And what of the others? Your friends?” I 
asked, and his face fell at the question. 

“Ah, I forget in my own joy,” he said. “I 
have done what I could. I have begged and plead 
with Mr. Hancock and other gentlemen of the 

152 



“Behold.” said Lafayette, “I am a major-general in the army 

of America!” 
























BREAD AND WATER 


Congress; but what can they do if there is no 
room for us ? We were not correctly informed in 
Paris, mademoiselle. There lies the trouble. 
Most of my countrymen will have to return to 
France. The Baron de Kalb has gone off in a 
fine rage; but they have found a commission for 
him, and a fast horseman has followed to bring 
him back. That is most fitting. He is an officer 
of the finest. Of the others, two I will keep as 
aides, and one remains with your Congress as 
an engineer; but the rest, they must go back. 
Their chance to earn glory is lost, I fear.” 

We talked a moment or two more, and then, 
excusing himself and again thanking me, he made 
off, swinging along joyously, his head held high 
and his shoulders straight, as a major-general’s 
should be, no doubt. I watched him for a mo¬ 
ment, still feeling the pleasure of his success and 
made happy for the time by his great joy; then 
my thoughts went back to my own affairs, and, 
with a troubled sigh, I turned to take my place in 
the shade and consider once again the problem of 
what I should do. 

Jinny was sound asleep, propped against the 
bole of a tree, quite unconscious of what went on 

153 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


around her. I saw no need to wake her and was 
about to seat myself on the grass near by, when I 
noticed a square piece of paper lying on the 
ground before me. It could not have been there 
earlier, and as I sat down I picked it up, feeling 
a little puzzled as to how it had come there. 
When I had settled myself I glanced at the paper. 
There was but a line of writing on it: 

“Seek sanctuary with thy uncle John Abbott. 

“E. P. U ” 

I looked up amazed, and across the pathway, a 
good fifty yards distant, I caught sight of a shock 
of red hair peeping from behind a tree; but at that 
distance I could not see whether the eyes that I 
felt looking at me were blue or not. 


154 


CHAPTER XI 

A DEAF-AND-DUMB BOY 


W HEN I record the fact that never in my 
life had I seen my Uncle John, it will be 
understood why I have not spoken of him before. 
Truth to tell, the message had to be read twice 
over ere I was at all sure it was intended for me; 
because I was forced to stop and think in order to 
bring to memory the fact that the gentleman 
mentioned was my father’s brother. 

This will seem all the more surprising because 
Mr. John Abbott was a man of prominence in 
the business affairs of Philadelphia, and hardly 
a news-sheet was published without some an¬ 
nouncement from his great warehouses of the ar¬ 
rival of sundry commodities that people stood in 
need of. But his name was never uttered in our 
family. Indeed, up to this time, Father had 
never referred to him in any way. When we were 
younger, Val and I had often talked of this with 
bated breath, wondering what it could have been 

155 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


that had brought such an estrangement between 
the brothers; but we had never reached any solu¬ 
tion and, as we grew older, ceased to think of it 
altogether. 

There were a number of stories current about 
Uncle John, whether true or not I have no means 
of knowing, but they had to do mostly with his 
short temper and general bearishness. I had 
heard, but where I could not remember, that he 
was unmarried and vastly rich. Those two items 
were the sole facts about my uncle that were in 
my possession, and as I sat there under the trees 
I could not have told how I had obtained even 
so much information. 

It will be readily seen, then, why it had not oc¬ 
curred to me that there might be a place of refuge 
for me and Jinny. It was at least a possible solu¬ 
tion of my problem; but had it not been for the 
mysterious message, I confess it would never 
have entered my head. 

“At least he can’t eat me,” I said to myself, 
jumping to my feet. I had determined to find 
Mr. John Abbott and present him with a new 
niece. 

156 


A DEAF-AND-DUMB BOY 


“Come along, Jinny,” I cried, shaking the girl 
by the shoulders. “We can’t stay here all day, 
you know,” 

“ ’Deed, Miss Patty, I wish you had n’t waked 
me jes’ then. I was dreamin’ we was down at 
Springhill, and Hesper was jes’ chasin’ that Mis’ 
McDonald woman all over the pasture down by 
the brook and was jes’ gwine to catch her. It 
was a beautiful dream, Miss Patty.” 

From the first person I inquired of, who was a 
grave and courteous Quaker, I learned that my 
uncle’s place of business was on Dock Street near 
to Market, that it was the largest warehouse in 
the vicinity, and that I should have no trouble in 
finding it. Forthwith I hurried down toward the 
Delaware, and, after something of a walk, came 
upon the building. 

To make it sure, there was a sign above a small 
door bearing, in tarnished gilt letters, the name 
“John Abbott.” 

With somewhat of hesitation, I mounted the 
two steps and knocked on the door. I waited a 
moment, expecting some one at least to call out 
an invitation for me to enter; but seemingly no 

157 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


attention was paid to my summons. After what 
I thought was a suitable time, I knocked again 
with greater insistence, and scarce had my hand 
struck the panel, when a cheery voice bade me 
come in. 

I pushed open the door and stepped directly 
into a small, dusty box of a room, with a railing 
dividing it in half. Upon the far side of this was 
a huge desk, before which a man was leaning 
over a large book with his back to me. He had a 
quill pen stuck behind each of his ears, which 
gave him a rather comical look, as if his head bore 
small wings. I suppressed the desire to laugh 
that possessed me at sight of him, and stood wait¬ 
ing till he should cease his labor. 

“Well, what is it you want?" he asked, with¬ 
out turning around. 

“I ’ve come to see my uncle / 1 I replied rather 
timidly, and at my words he whipped about and 
disclosed himself as a young man with merry 
eyes and a most surprised face. 

“Strap me!” he cried, “’t is a lady! Your par¬ 
don, mistress,” he went on rapidly. “We are 
so seldom honored by the fair sex that when I 
enter here I leave my manners behind me and 

158 


A DEAF-AND-DUMB BOY 


think of naught but business. Whom did you 
wish to see?” 

“My uncle, Mr. Abbott,” I replied; and at my 
answer a puzzled look came into his face. 

“I did n’t know he was an uncle,” the young 
man said vaguely. “Are you sure?” he ques¬ 
tioned, with his head on one side. 

“To be sure I’m sure,” I replied, with a hint 
of spirit in my tone. “I couldn’t be mistaken 
about it very well, seeing that my father is his 
brother.” 

“I did n’t know he had a brother,” the young 
man said; then speaking as if to himself, “This 
is going to be a bit awkward.” 

There was a pause while I waited to see what 
his next move was to be; but he made none, and 
my patience began to grow short. 

“Will you please let my uncle know that I am 
here, or else inform me where I may seek him?” 
I demanded. And at this the young man shook 
his head mournfully. 

“You don’t understand,, miss,” he said. “I 
pledge you my word, ’t is as much as my position 
is worth to tell him of your visit.” 

“How can that be?” I asked. 

159 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“ T is like this/’ he replied, looking about mys¬ 
teriously, his voice dropping almost to a whisper. 
“He does n’t allow females in the place, miss. 
He won’t see one under any pretext whatever. 
I’ve special instructions to warn him if one 
comes, and I should be out in the warehouse this 
minute crying the news of you. If he finds you 
here, I scarce know what will happen.” 

“But I must see him,” I insisted. “Surely he 
did n’t say he would n’t receive his relatives.” 

“No, that he did n't,” the clerk replied, with 
something of relief in his tone. “He said not a 
word of relatives, male or female, and I vow, 
miss, you are the first I’ve ever seen to know it, 
though I have heard that Madam Roberts, the 
fashionable Madam Roberts, is his sister.” 

“Aye, that’s true,” I told him. “And has she 
never been here?” 

“Not since my time, and that’s three years 
come next September,” the young man informed 
me. 

“Well, I mean to see him,” I said, determined 
now to go through with the matter, but by no 
means encouraged at the outlook. Evidently 

160 


A DEAF-AND-DUMB BOY 


this uncle of mine was a peculiar person, and the 
help I had half expected from him seemed scarce 
likely to be given me; but I had no intention 
now of being frightened off without seeing 
him. 

And see him I did. While the young man, 
with wrinkled brows, was puzzling his head over 
the problem I presented, a small door in the rear 
of the room was flung open and a large, gray¬ 
haired man entered with something of a rush. 
He fronted me as he came in and stopped abruptly, 
glaring at me from under shaggy brows, his face 
wrinkling into a scowl. I returned his look, and, 
though he gazed fiercely enough, there was a light 
in his eyes that led me to hold my own steady, 
That this was my uncle I had not the least doubt, 
for he bore a great resemblance to my father, ex¬ 
cept that he was older and somewhat stooped in 
figure. 

With an anxious feeling, I waited for him to 
speak; but instead, he walked to a table under the 
small window and, seating himself, picked up 
some documents that were lying there. The 
young man, in the meantime, after a rather help- 

161 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


less glance in my direction, had turned back to 
his desk, and for a few moments there was silence 
in the place, save for the scratching of his quill 
pen. 

Presently my uncle looked over his shoulder, 
evidently to see if I was still there. Finding that 
I was, he turned away quickly, with a sort of 
nervous shake of his whole body. 

“Horace,” he said in a gruff voice, “I thought I 
saw something on the other side of the rail. I 
wish you would shoo it out, please.” 

“Yes, sir,” said Horace, but he stared helplessly 
at me. 

Evidently it was my turn to speak or to go out, 
and I did neither. The young man’s face was so 
comical, the situation so absurd that, scarce know¬ 
ing what I did, I laughed aloud, and the room 
was filled with the sound of it. 

“Horace!” shouted my uncle, still not looking 
in my direction, “are you going to shoo that out 
as I told you, or must I leave my own office?” 

“Neither,” I cried, before Horace had a chance 
to answer. “I’ve come to see my Uncle John and 
I’m going to see him!” 

“Uncle John!” exclaimed Mr. Abbott, in a 

162 


A DEAF-AND-DUMB BOY 


loud voice, and then he twisted in his chair, 
searching me with a keen glance. “Why do you 
come here to seek your Uncle John?” 

“Because this is his place of business,” I re¬ 
turned. 

“This is my place of business and none other’s,” 
he retorted fiercely. 

“And you are my Uncle John,” I declared; “and 
I do not hold your welcome as over warm to your 
niece’s first visit.” 

He looked at me in amazement, his mouth 
opened as if to speak, but his surprise evidently 
was so great that for the moment he could find no 
words to utter. 

“So you ’re Augusta’s daughter,” he said at 
length, and I liked not the tone nor his manner 
of saying it, nor did I relish it now to be mis¬ 
taken for my cousin Rosalie. 

“Nay, I’m naught of the kind!” I said em¬ 
phatically. “No Tory am I, but the daughter of 
your brother William.” 

At that he rose to his feet, a flush of anger 
mantling his face. 

“How dared he send you to me?” he cried 
sharply; but there was more than anger in the 

163 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


tone. Almost was I persuaded that there was 
something of anguish as well. 

“He did not send me, M I explained. “He 
knows naught of my being here, but thinks I 
am with my Aunt Augusta/’ 

“And why are you not?” demanded my uncle. 

“Because, sir,” I said, “I like not the ways of 
that house, and, rather than set foot inside it 
again, I would go into the fields to find a bed.” 

I thought I detected a sudden twinkle in my 
uncle’s eye as I said this, and I doubt not there 
was a flash of fire in my glance, seeing that the 
recollection of the treatment I had received 
brought with it a touch of anger I was at no 
pains to hide. 

“What was the manner of her welcome to 
you?” he asked, with a show of interest. 

“She was smooth enough until I jumped not 
at her bidding, whereupon she locked me in my 
room on bread and water.” 

He gave a grunt, but there was naught in the 
expression of his face to indicate how his thoughts 
ran. 

“It sounds like her,” he mused. “Augusta 
hath not changed, it seems.” 

164 


A DEAF-AND-DUMB BOY 


Again there was silence for a space. Uncle 
John sat with a scowl upon his brow and showed 
not the slightest sign of relaxing in my favor; 
but I fancied he was thinking back over days 
past, and, hoping that such recollections might 
soften him, I judged it best not to break in upon 
them. 

“And what wouldst have me do?” he demanded 
at length, fastening his glance upon me once 
more. 

“I would have you take me into your house un¬ 
til my father returns from France,” I answered 
boldly. “It might be that you would not regret 
it, for mayhap in time we should become friends.” 

“Friends!” he burst out. “You and I ?” 

“Aye, and why not?” I returned. 

“I am more used to dealing with enemies,” he 
retorted, “and, to my thinking, there is more 
spice in that business than in flattering friends, 
who take advantage of one’s good nature.” 

“Not of your good nature, I make sure,” I 
could not help saying, and wished I had kept my 
tongue between my teeth. Truth to tell, I was 
not doing my cause a service by speaking so 
pertly; but it seemed he invited it, and in such 

165 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


emergencies I ever found that I was apt to say 
the wrong thing. However, he seemed not to 
take it amiss and gave another of his queer grunts, 
which I found later to be his substitute for a 
chuckle. 

“ ’T is plain there ’s Abbott blood in thee/’ he 
growled; “but let me say this, miss, I count not 
that an obligation. Were thy name 'Smith, I 
were more like to favor thee.” 

“In that case, I may go my way and trouble 
you no further, Uncle John,” I replied, with some 
spirit, “for my blood is my sole claim on you.” 

“Aye, and prove me an unmannerly bear, as 
thy father hath doubtless told thee,” he burst out 
wrathfully. 

“Nay, my father hath said naught of you, 
sir,” I answered. “Neither good nor bad of you 
have I heard from him.” 

“ ’T is scarce to be believed,” he muttered to 
himself. “Hath he not told thee what manner of 
man he thought me ?” 

“I cannot recollect ever having heard your 
name pass his lips.” 

“Then what brought thee here?” he demanded. 
“I know Augusta sent thee not.” 

166 


A DEAF-AND-DUMB BOY 


“This is what brought me,” I answered, and 
held out to him the piece of paper which I still 
had in my hand. 

He took it and glanced at the writing thereon 
with knitted brows. I expected he would ask 
how I came by it, but, to my surprise, he said 
naught on that score. Instead he handed it back 
without comment. 

For a moment, there was silence, and I judged 
that my fate was being sealed. That there was 
a struggle going on in his twisted mind I could 
well understand from the little I had learned in 
the hour I had been in his office. And, curi¬ 
ously enough, I had grown anxious that he should 
take me in, so that chance would give me the 
opportunity to make friends with this great bear 
of an uncle who seemed so forbidding. In spite 
of his manner toward me and his harsh bearing, 
I liked him. Why, I could not have told, for in 
truth his words were calculated to anger rather 
than soothe me, yet there was something— 

“I 'll give thee bed and board, child/’ he said, 
breaking in on my thoughts with ungracious 
speech, “but understand this: ’t is not because I 
must, but because I choose.” 

167 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“Thank you, Uncle,” I returned. “I shall try 
not to bother you unduly.” 

“I ’ll see to that,” he answered grimly. “Now 
leave me. This is no place for females.” 

“And where shall I wait for you?” I asked. 

“Go to my house and say I sent thee,” he an¬ 
swered shortly. 

“And where is your house, Uncle?” 

“Ask the first person that meets thee in the 
street,” he snapped, and turned again to his table. 
I started out, but he stopped me. “What is thy 
name?” he asked. 

“Patty.” 

“Aye, it would be Patty,” he murmured to him¬ 
self. “It would be Patty.” He repeated it 
softly again and again, lingering, I thought, over 
the name; but I saw plainly that I was forgotten 
and took my leave of him without further words. 

On the street I looked about for some one to 
ask the way to my uncle’s house, and there, from 
somewhere, came a small boy, who gazed up into 
my face with bright blue eyes that sparkled. 
Also I noted that his hair was red; but it seemed 
to go so well with his freckled face that it made 
no serious impression on my mind. 

168 


A DEAF-AND-DUMB BOY 


“Canst tell me where Mr. John Abbott lives ?” 
I asked him. 

He shook his head in the negative and pointed 
to his ears and then to his mouth. For a moment 
I did not understand; then, with a sharp feeling 
of pity, I realized that he wished to show me that 
he was deaf and dumb. 

With such a barrier between us, I felt quite 
helpless; but glancing at his bright, intelligent 
face, I pointed to the sign above the door of my 
uncle’s office and then toward the dwelling-houses 
back from the river. 

With a grin and nod, he let me know I was 
understood, and, half dancing ahead, he motioned 
me to follow. 


169 


CHAPTER XII 

I FIND A WELCOME 


P ILOTED by the deaf-and-dumb boy, who 
flitted ahead of us, we made our way along 
Front Street until we were past the business sec¬ 
tion and came upon the substantial dwellings 
erected by those merchants who chose to live near 
their counting-houses. The boy at length 
stopped before one of these, and I knew by his 
actions that we had reached my uncle’s home. 

"Thank you for showing us the way,” I said 
to him, forgetting his infirmity; but the silver 
sixpence I held out to him he clearly understood. 
He took it with a wide smile and, touching his 
forelock, ran off. I looked after him for a mo¬ 
ment, wondering if, were I so sorely afflicted, I 
could show as happy and cheerful a countenance. 

The house before me was a fine brick structure 
of three stories and an attic a-top. The shutters 
of the windows were bowed, upstairs as well as 
down, and it had the look of being deserted. It 

170 


I FIND A WELCOME 


differed from its neighbors in that it stood alone, 
with a garden space upon each side, and behind 
the high fence I could see the tops of trees and 
tall, growing shrubs. 

I walked up the four or five steps before the 
wide doorway and sounded the knocker. 

I could hear the echo of my summons resound¬ 
ing hollow, as if there was none inside to answer 
it; but therein I was mistaken, for I had not long 
to wait ere the door was opened and I was 
confronted by a pleasant-faced young woman 
with a child of four or more holding her free 
hand. 

This surprised me, for Uncle John’s antipathy 
to women had led me to expect a man-servant; but 
I smiled at her, hardly knowing how to begin, and 
she smiled back invitingly. 

“Are you Mr. Abbott’s housekeeper?” I asked 
at last, still feeling a little awkward. 

“Nay, miss, I’m her daughter,” the woman an¬ 
swered. “Is it Mrs. Brisket you ’ll be wishing to 
see?” 

“If she’s my uncle’s housekeeper, I would like 
to see her,” I replied. “I’m coming here to live 
for a time.” 


• I7i 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

i 

The woman opened her eyes as if she could 
not believe me. 

“You be cornin’ here to live, miss?” she said 
in a tone of astonishment. “I fear some one hath 
misdirected you. This can never be the right 
house.” 

“Yes, it is,” I returned; “my uncle told me—” 

“Your uncle, miss? Mr. Abbott?” she had in¬ 
terrupted me, her eyes growing still rounder in 
amazement. 

“Your surprise is not to be wondered at,” I ad¬ 
mitted, “but’t is all settled, and I want to go in.” 

“Excuse me, miss,” she blurted out. “I pray 
you to enter. My wits be all astray. In sooth, 
I’m that put about I don’t quite know what I’m 

• > a 

saym . 

She drew back, holding the door wide, and 
Jinny and I went into the broad hallway. 

“This way, miss.” The woman ushered me 
into a great room filled with pieces of furniture 
made of rich mahogany or nutwood that shone 
like burnished metal in the somber light admitted 
through the bowed shutters. 

“Pray be seated, miss, till I call my mother,” 

172 


I FIND A WELCOME 


the women went on, but she made no move to 
leave me. Evidently, there was something im¬ 
portant that she still wished to know. 

“I ask your pardon/’ she stammered, as I sat 
down, “but you said Mr. Abbott was your uncle; 
yet you are not Miss Rosalie Roberts. Her I 
know by sight, and I cannot dare to think—” 

“No, I’m Patty Abbott. My father is Mr. 
Abbott’s brother,” I explained, as clearly as I 
could, and the effect of my words was immediate. 

With an exclamation of delight, the woman 
turned and rushed out of the room, calling at the 
top of her voice. 

“Mother! Mother! ’T is Mr. William’s daugh¬ 
ter, and she ’s come here to live!” 

I heard the words repeated and echoed through 
the house as the young woman hastened to the 
back with her news. Then another voice an¬ 
swered, and shortly there was the sound of 
hurrying steps. And all the while the little girl 
stood beside the door and loo'ked at me with un¬ 
winking eyes. I had not had time to make 
friends with her ere her mother ran in, accom¬ 
panied by an older woman. For an instant they 

173 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


both stood upon the threshold and stared at me 
as if unable to believe their own eyes. And I 
stared back, for the sight of the housekeeper 
brought a warmth to my harried feelings. She 
was fifty or more, I should judge, with a round, 
kindly face set with fine wrinkles at the corner 
of her eyelids; her cheeks were rosy and she was 
of an ample figure; yet was there a certain quick¬ 
ness about her movements more suggestive of 
youth than age. Her hair was graying, and was 
pulled straight back from her forehead in a way 
to give her a look of extreme neatness. 

But it was not of these things that I thought, 
rather of the kindly, motherly expression with 
which she regarded me, and I felt my heart go 
out to her. Here was one to whom I might turn 
for sympathy in sorrow, and yet find a good 
friend to share my joys. 

She came into the room almost timidly. It 
seemed as if she were afraid it would all prove a 
dream and that I might vanish from her sight. 
I rose to my feet and went toward her. 

“You 'll forgive me, miss, but’t is a great sur¬ 
prise and pleasure you Ve brought to us. Is it 
true that you are Master Willy’s child?” She 

174 


I FIND A WELCOME 


was almost pathetic in her eagerness to believe, 
yet could not credit it. 

“Yes, my father is Mr. William Abbott, of 
Haddonfield in the Jerseys.” 

“And is it true, what Sarah says, that you be 
cornin’ here to live?” 

“Yes, for a time, an you ’ll have me/’ I an¬ 
swered with a smile. 

She came to me and took my hands, looking 
deep into my eyes. 

“Did you ever hear your father speak of 
Martha, dearie?” she asked wistfully. 

“Why, yes, of course,” I answered, recollection 
coming to me. “Did n’t you play together when 
you were children?” 

“Did he never speak of the time when I was 
no bigger than Jane there?” she went on, point¬ 
ing to the child by the door. “I fell into the well 
at Springhill, and Master Willy, your father, 
miss, not much bigger, saved me with a rope, 
holding me up, and nigh dragged in himself, the 
while he shouted for help. Has he never spoke 
of that?” 

“To be sure he has,” I answered, though, in¬ 
deed, the incident was never more than a passing 

175 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


tale to me. “Often, when we were near the well, 
he has told me of it and bade me have a care. 
’T is in the lower pasture.” 

“Aye, to be sure,” said Martha, “and what a 
long while agone to seem so real to me! You see, 
miss, I was born at Springhill. My mother came 
over from England with your grandfather and 
grandmother. She married on the farm, as I 
did when I grew up. Brisket, my man, miss, he 
was overseer at Springhill till your grand¬ 
father died. Then, miss, all changed, and Bris¬ 
ket and I came with your Uncle John, he bein’ the 
oldest. This is my daughter Sarah and her 
daughter, Jane Craig. Brisket has gone, and I'm 
a cross old woman with my heart in the past; but 
I never expected to see this day. Mayhap your 
coming, miss, will— It makes me hope some¬ 
thing I Ve not done these twenty years.” 

“I hope you ’re going to like me, Mrs. Bris¬ 
ket,” I said, and there were tears in my eyes, for 
she spoke in so soft and gentle a voice that the 
sorrow of years seemed to be in it and it touched 
my heart. 

“Already I love you, miss, for yourself and 
for the promise you bring,” she replied; and then, 

176 


I FIND A WELCOME 


as if coming back to the present, she asked a 
thought anxiously: “What of Mr. John? Did 
you see him? Did he, himself, say you were to 
live here? How came it, miss? For’t is scarce 
understandable after all that hath happened.” 

I began my tale, but had only started it when 
Mrs. Brisket interrupted. 

“Do you mean you went to his counting-house, 
miss?” she inquired incredulously. 

“To be sure,” I said. “I knew no otherwhere 
to go.” 

“And did he see you? But ’t is certain he must 
have.” Mrs. Brisket answered her own question. 
“Go on, dearie, and tell me all about it.” 

She listened to the end and then shook her head. 
“It seems scarce credible; but now that you’re 
here, we ’ll see that you stay, whether he repents 
or not.” 

“Is he like to change his mind?” I asked anx¬ 
iously, not pleased with such a prospect. 

“The whole happening is so strange that I 
know not what to think,” the housekeeper an¬ 
swered. “For twenty years he hath shut himself 
away from every one, save only those with whom 
he hath business. An agent from London, a 

177 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

captain of one of his ships, such like bodies, are 
all who have entered these doors in a score of 
years. But come, Miss Patty, we 'll show you 
where you ’re to sleep.” 

“I must be goin’, Mother,” said the younger 
woman. “I only come to visit, miss,” she went 
on, in explanation to me. “ ’T is lonesome for 
Mother, and she likes to play with Jane.” 

“Aye, thou hadst best be goin’, Sarah,” her 
mother replied. “She’s married to a cooper, 
miss, Craig by name, and they have a small place 
of their own out a way beyond the edge of the 
town.” 

Mrs. Craig left us, and Mrs. Brisket telling 
Jinny to go into the kitchen, we two ascended the 
broad stairs to the second floor and up again to 
the third, where I was shown into a front room, 
a fine, spacious chamber. It was furnished with 
a great four-post mahogany bed, a well-fitted 
dressing-table, and a press for clothes. All were 
fine, substantial pieces, but this last was carved 
most beautifully. 

“Whence came these things, Mrs. Brisket?” I 
asked. “The house seems filled with wonderful 
treasures.” 


178 


I FIND A WELCOME 


“1 doubt if there be a house in the city like it; 
nor in the colonies, neither/' she told me. “This 
was your grandfather's town house, and all here 
came from England, of the very best. In his day 
it was the center of all that was fashionable in 
Philadelphia. And now, dearie, where are your 
boxes?" she ended. 

“They are at my Aunt Augusta’s house," I 
replied, and told her something of my having been 
there on a visit. 

“We can send for them," she suggested, see¬ 
ing that there was a hesitation in my manner. 

“I’m not sure that is best, Mrs. Brisket," I 
said, frankly. “To tell the truth, I like not my 
Aunt Augusta and would as lief she did not know 
where I am." 

“She was ever one to have her own way," Mrs. 
Brisket commented, under her breath; and I felt 
certain she had no great love for my aunt even 
though she was born an Abbott. But at the mo¬ 
ment the housekeeper held her tongue upon her 
private opinion. “Howsomever, gear you must 
have and that at once. Will you go and buy what 
is needful for the time being? There is an 
abundance of money in the house. For all your 

179 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


uncle’s queer ways, there is no lack of gold here, 
nor is he one to pinch pennies.” 

“Nay, I have coin for my needs,” I answered, 
fr and in truth I should like to go a-shopping. 
Wilt come with me, Mrs. Brisket?” 

She beamed upon me so that I saw how greatly 
she was pleasured by the invitation. 

“Let me but get my bonnet and shawl and we 
will fare forth at once, else we shall be too late,” 
she said importantly. 

We went out shortly thereafter and sought the 
shops whither Rosalie had already taught me the 
road, and it was indeed a pleasure to see Mrs. 
Brisket’s old face brighten as we made our way 
from store to store. ’T is ever a joy to females 
to gaze upon silks, satins, and fine linens, and 
I scarce remember one at any age who was 
not ready to set forth upon such an expedi¬ 
tion. 

A few things I had need of at once, and I also 
bought materials so that Jinny could at least sew 
me up a night-rail for the present emergency. 
Other such necessities to make me comfortable 
for a few days we sent home by the draper’s clerk, 
and as Mrs. Brisket knew a reliable sewing- 

180 


I FIND A WELCOME 

woman, we planned work enough to last for a 
month. 

Back once more in the house, I started Jinny 
to stitching, and myself distributed what I had 
bought in the wide, empty drawers of the press 
and dressing-table, where a scent of lavender still 
lingered, putting a garment here and another 
there to make the place seem as if it were really 
lived in; but they were vastly too few to occupy 
the space at my disposal. Then and there I 
promised myself that before many days were 
passed I should have bought a deal of finery to 
fill those drawers. 

Mrs. Brisket pottered about, asking questions 
and bubbling over with the joy of having me 
there. 

“ ’T is a great day, miss,” she repeated again 
and again. “I little thought I should live to see 
it.” 

She talked to me unendingly of my uncle, for 
whom she cherished an abundant admiration, in¬ 
sisting that he was good and generous, with the 
softest of hearts under his crabbed exterior. 

“None could have a better master!” she ex¬ 
claimed. “Though there’s little he ’s interested 

181 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


in outside his counting-house. I might feed him 
on scraps and he’d scarce know it. And, miss, 
he cares naught for the money after he ’s made 
it. He’d spend with both hands had he the 
chance. As ’t is, the gold piles up, I know. If 
he but had a daughter, now,” she ended with a 
sigh. 

“Are daughters so very extravagant?” I asked, 
laughing. 

“Nay, ’t is not that alone I was thinking of,” 
she explained. “It is some one to love he’s 
needin’, miss. That’s what has been lackin’ in 
his life, and I’ve the hope he ’s found it now.” 

Her meaning was plain enough, and I answered 
that I hoped so, too; but in the first weeks that 
were to follow, there was scant evidence that my 
uncle had picked me to open his heart. 

I saw him again that day at dinner. He came 
into the house almost on the run and went straight 
to the dining-room. Mrs. Brisket had warned 
me and I was ready in my place at the stroke of 
the clock. He entered, clapped eyes on me with 
an expression of surprise, as if my presence was 
very unexpected, then, seeming to recollect, gave 
his characteristic grunt. 

182 


I FIND A WELCOME 


“Huh! Found the place, did you?” 

“Yes, Uncle, and I like it,” I answered pleas¬ 
antly. 

He looked at me under his beetling brows and 
grunted again. 

We began the meal, Jinny waiting upon the 
table, which change my uncle seemed not to note, 
and for fully ten minutes, I should judge, I 
sat, expecting him to speak. At last, growing 
tired of it, I thought I would break through the 
silence myself. 

“You have n't asked about the family, Uncle,” 
I suggested. 

“Don’t want to hear about them,” he retorted, 
without raising his eyes from his plate. 

“But surely you want to know that I have a 
brother,” I persisted. 

“Oh, you have a brother, have you?” he said 
gruffly. 

“Yes, and a fine fellow he is. I hope to see 
him soon, and I want you to know him.” 

“I don’t want to know him,” came the posi¬ 
tive reply. “He’s in need of bed and board, too, 
I suppose.” 

“No, he’s with the army,” I returned, amused. 

183 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“Which army?” he demanded instantly. 

“Mr. Washington’s, to be sure. And you 
should be interested in him because he ’s your 
only nephew.” 

“Just because he’s my nephew is no reason 
why I should waste any interest on him,” my 
uncle said, after a moment’s thought. 

“Why, yes, it is, Uncle,” I began. 

“I say it isn’t!” he broke out. “Why should 
I care for anybody because the same blood runs 
in our veins? Fiddlesticks’ ends!” 

“All the same, you’d like Val. He’s much 
nicer than I am, and you—” 

“What has that to do with it?” he questioned. 
“You are n’t here because I like you.” 

I chuckled. He was gruff and blunt and 
not very polite; a good deal like a cross bear; but 
somehow he did n’t seem at all terrifying to me. 

“No,” I made the reply, “the boot is on the 
other foot. I’m here because / like you 

To this he vouchsafed no answer by so much 
as a look, and we sat in silence again for a time, 
till once more I broke it with a remark about our 
armies. He cut in upon my speech and put an 
end to that topic. 


184 


I FIND A WELCOME 


“I care naught for politics/’ he cried, glaring 
at me. “It is only fools who kill each other to 
settle an argument, and I like not fools.” 

“Art a Quaker then, Uncle?” I asked inno¬ 
cently. 

“Nay, I ’m not that either. Thou ’It scarce 
find me turning the other cheek to be smitten.” 
He seemed to explode as he said the words. 

“Then what are you, Uncle?” I persisted. 

“I seem to be the victim of a pert young miss,” 
he retorted. And I perforce was constrained to 
be quiet, seeing that I was somewhat in accord 
with this opinion. Thus ended my first meal with 
Uncle John. 

I went to bed that night certain no girl in all 
the world was as lonely as I. My thoughts went 
out to Father on the seas, and I wondered should 
I ever see him again. Oh, how I longed for 
Springhill, where I had passed such happy years! 
But I did not sob myself to sleep. Uncle John, 
for all his grufifness, was like to my father, and 
I was already scheming to earn his friendship. 


CHAPTER XIII 

MADAM ROBERTS STEPS IN 


H AD it not been for Mrs. Brisket, those weeks 
at my uncle’s home would have been most 
unhappy ones for me. As the days passed, I 
hoped to find him changing toward me, but there 
was no sign of any added graciousness. Now 
and then he would make a gruff remark, but for 
the most part our meals were eaten in silence, 
and I never saw him at any other time. 

“Uncle John will never care for me,” I said to 
Mrs. Brisket one day, quite in despair of win¬ 
ning my way with him. 

“Indeed, Miss Patty,” she insisted, “he is a 
changed man already. He groweth sweeter 
tempered each day.” 

“Good lack! What must he have been like be¬ 
fore?” I could not help exclaiming. 

“Much like the rest of us,” she declared loyally. 
“His heart is sore and he thinketh every one seeth 
the wound.” 

186 


MADAM ROBERTS STEPS IN 

“But what caused it?” I asked. “Why have I 
never known him? And what is the reason for 
the quarrel with my father?” 

Mrs. Brisket thought for a moment, shaking 
her head doubtfully; but at length she lifted it 
and looked squarely at me. 

“ ’T is not any of my affair, miss,” she an¬ 
swered, “but this I ’ll say. ’Twas neither the 
fault of your father nor my master. *T was a 
quarrel brought about by your aunt, Madam 
Roberts, long before you were born. ’T was she 
stirred up trouble betwixt them; and when your 
father married your mother the fat was in the fire 
in good earnest; for your uncle loved her too. 
That could have been gotten over had the two 
men been left alone; but Madam Roberts would 
not have it so, and, pretending to sympathize with 
each, told each of the other, misinterpreting every¬ 
thing until she brought about this breach. 
There ’s the truth of it, Miss Patty, and ’t is in 
my heart to hope you ’ll heal it.” 

Once that explanation was given me, I thought 
more kindly of my uncle, and soon came to realize 
that he was a ionely man, in sore need of the 
gentler things of life. Perchance, after all, I 

187 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


might be the means of bringing him and my 
father to a reconciliation, and however difficult 
the task, I meant to try. 

Of Mrs. Brisket I grew very fond, and she, I 
think, of me; and I settled down and took a 
regular place in the household, with duties to be 
performed daily, for I was glad of the occupation. 

Sarah Craig, Mrs. Brisket’s daughter, came 
a-visiting nigh every day, bringing her little 
daughter Jane with her. She and I made friends, 
and soon I came to love the child. We spent much 
time together in the large garden at the back of 
the house searching for fairies and elves among 
the hardy flowers, where Jane would find one now 
and then, though they seemed shy of me. 

Of Craig, Sarah’s husband, I heard a good 
deal. He was a patriot, heart and soul, and very 
ready to shout his opinions to all who cared to 
lfsten and some who did not. He was a leader 
among his associates, who were turbulent spirits, 
and it was through his wife that I learned some¬ 
thing of Rosalie and her mother which explained 
why they took no notice of my flight. 

It appeared that Sarah had told her husband 
all she knew of my experiences at Madam Rob- 

188 


MADAM ROBERTS STEPS IN 


ert’s house, and that same night a mob gathered 
about it, shouting threats. All that really hap¬ 
pened was a few windows broken and a torn coat 
upon the back of Mr. Roberts; but worse might 
have come had not the authorities intervened to 
save the Tories. The next day the family went 
straight to Harrogate and for a time remained 
out of the city. I was pleased at this news, for 
I could now go abroad without fearing the em¬ 
barrassment of meeting any of them. They, 
however, knew where I had taken refuge; for a 
few days later there came to me the portmantle 
and boxes in which I had left my belongings, so 
that there was no need for replenishing my ward¬ 
robe. This made me glad, though somewhat dis¬ 
appointed, too, seeing that I lacked any excuse 
for visiting the shops which entertained me so 
vastly. 

I had lived at Uncle John’s nigh a month when, 
on a Sunday morning, General Washington 
paraded his army through the streets of Phila¬ 
delphia on his way to meet the British who were 
at the head of the Elk River. Mrs. Brisket, 
Jinny, and I went out on the streets to see them, 
and I was deeply pleasured to note the Marquis 

189 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


de Lafayette riding beside our Commander-in- 
Chief. He seemed a very gallant youth and so 
greatly satisfied with his position that his face 
beamed with joy. 

To my thinking, our troops made a brave show¬ 
ing, with green leaves fastened to their caps and 
in the best of spirits. All the bystanders cheered 
mightily, and there was talk a-plenty of how the 
British would be beat; but to me it was a sad 
sight, and I could not look upon them without 
tears coming to my eyes. 

As the men passed, my thoughts were continu¬ 
ally on my brother Val, who must be among them. 
It made my heart sore that I might not see him 
ere he went forth to fight our enemies; but to 
my great happiness, he spied me and, quitting the 
ranks, dismounted and came to my side. 

“Val!” I cried, and caring naught for the press 
of people about us, threw my arms about his neck. 

“Jack Travers told me you were in the city,” 
he explained, “so I was on the watch for you. 
Now cry me your news.” 

As briefly as possible I told him something of 
what had befallen. 

“And you are at Uncle John’s ?” he queried al- 

190 


MADAM ROBERTS STEPS IN 

most incredulously. “I 'm scarce convinced 
Father would like that.” 

“Oh, Val!” I answered, “there's been a mis¬ 
take all these years, and mayhap I can set it right 
—I hope to. But do not worry about me. 
Everything is most comfortable, and, in truth, I 
like Uncle John, which is a compliment I can¬ 
not pay Aunt Augusta.” 

He shook his head doubtfully, but he agreed 
with Father that I was safer in the city than I 
should be at Springhill; and, that being so, I was 
better off where I was, even though there was an 
enmity between the elder Abbotts. 

He could stay but a few minutes with me, and 
when he left, I had no heart to remain longer 
upon the streets, but hurried home and sought the 
privacy of my own room, where I said a prayer 
for his safety and eased my heart of its pain with 
the tears I made no effort to stifle. Very lone¬ 
some, indeed, I felt, and for a time had little cour¬ 
age to face every-day affairs, seeing that I knew 
not how my dear father fared and that my brother 
was gone to give his life, if need be, for the cause. 
Should aught befall them, who was there left 
who would care what became of a lonely maid? 

191 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


That same evening came Sarah with her hus¬ 
band, who was talking of joining our army. 
Mrs. Brisket and his wife tried to dissuade him, 
for the child’s sake, and asked me to add my 
voice in protest; but I saw quickly that his mind 
was made up and that naught any one could say 
would keep him back. 

> “ ’T is not right, mistress,” he told me, "that a 
great hulk like me should stay safe at home while 
better men are giving their lives. As for the 
child, ’t is for her sake and for those others who 
will come after her that I want to fight. Is it 
not better that they should live in a free land than 
that they should have a king to make them 
slaves?” 

And what answer could I make, seeing that I, 
too, loved my country and would have been fight¬ 
ing for it had I been a man? 

"We ’ll look after your wife and child, Craig,” 
I said at length; and thereafter there was no 
holding him. Two days later he brought them 
to the house, having closed his own little abode, 
and, after tearful farewells, off he went, to re¬ 
turn a year later none the worse for his experi- 

192 


MADAM ROBERTS STEPS IN 


ence and happy to have struck a blow for the 
freedom he so ardently believed in. 

Thus it came about that Sarah and Jane lived 
with us throughout the winter. They occupied a 
small room in the third story, next that of Mrs. 
Brisket at the back of the house. Jinny was on 
the other side of the hall and I in the front room, 
so that we women had the whole floor to our¬ 
selves and very comfortable we were. 

Near the end of September we heard that the 
battle of Brandywine had been lost and that the 
British were on their way to take over Philadel¬ 
phia. This brought a great scurrying of the 
Whigs to leave; and the Tories, who up till then 
had been fairly quiet, grew loud in their talk, pre¬ 
dicting dire penalties for all who had been dis¬ 
loyal to the king. They said the war was ended, 
and indeed, with Congress fled to Lancaster and 
the capital in the hands of our enemies, the out¬ 
look was dismal. 

On the twenty-sixth, Sir William Howe’s 
forces entered Philadelphia by the Germantown 
road, and for many months to come the city was 
in the hands of the British army, and all the loyal 

193 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


citizens within it were scarce better than pris¬ 
oners, so tightly were the lines drawn about it. 

I was somewhat curious to see how Uncle John 
would take this change, and, after persistent 
questioning, finally brought out this expression of 
his view of the situation as it touched him per¬ 
sonally. 

'‘Seeing that I have taken no part in politics, I 
shall stay where I am,” he said with his usual 
grufifness; and there the matter rested. 

A day or two later I returned from market 
with a full basket, which Jinny carried, and was 
in the kitchen, when the knocker sounded and 
Sarah hurried back with the news that my Aunt 
Augusta was asking to see me. 

“ ’T is the first time she hath set foot in this 
house for years,” Mrs. Brisket whispered in an 
awe-struck voice, "and I doubt not she means ill 
by this visit.” 

For my part, the motive of Aunt Augusta’s 
visit I could not fathom. I found her seated on 
one of the best mahogany chairs, staring about 
the parlor with appraising eyes, as she were reck¬ 
oning in her own mind just which pieces she 
would have and where they might best be set in 

194 


MADAM ROBERTS STEPS IN 

her own house; but upon my entrance she looked 
up with a grim smile upon her face. 

“Well, miss/’ she began, “the tables are turned, 
you see. Your paltry Revolution is ended, and 
those who scorned King George are like to repent 
it bitterly.” 

“We still have an army, Aunt Augusta,” I 
replied calmly. I had no mind to let her see that 
I was in any doubt that we should beat the British 
in the end. 

She laughed scornfully. “You have a mob of 
tatterdemalions!” she retorted. “A set of rascals 
that you may call an army, an it pleaseth you; 
but Sir William Howe willl make short work of 
such. He means not to tarry ere he settles this 
business for good and all/’ 

“ ’T would be well if General Washington 
knew that and saved himself the trouble of fight¬ 
ing,” I could not help saying, angered a little at 
her arrogant assurance. 

“He will know of it in good time,” she re¬ 
plied, not at all put out, so sure was she. “It 
will not be long ere we see your Virginia general 
hanged for a traitor, as he richly deserveth.” 

“Have they begun already to build the gal- 

195 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


lows, aunt?” I asked with spirit, for I did not 
mean that she should think she frighted me. 

“Have done!” she cried angrily; and I confess 
I was pleased to have shaken her out of her com¬ 
placency. “You are a saucy chit; but I warn you, 
you are like to suffer for it unless you do my bid¬ 
ding.” 

“How shall I suffer, and for what?” I de¬ 
manded. 

“Think you it is not known that you are a 
malignant rebel?” she inquired. “You and your 
brother, and your father as well, are traitors to 
your king. It will not be forgotten when his 
Majesty comes into his own again; and I warn 
you ’t would be wise to have a friend at court.” 

“And how am I to earn that friendship, Aunt 
Augusta? For ’t is plain I shall not have it 
without pay,” I replied, growing cooler as her 
anger rose. 

“Aye, you shall earn it,” she said, “by giving 
me that message you took from Major Tarlton at 
Springhill” 

In my surprise, was on the tip of my tongue 
to blurt out the truth that I no longer had 
the message and that she herself must know more 

196 


MADAM ROBERTS STEPS IN 


of it than I did; but so astounded was I at her 
demand, that for an instant I could not speak; 
by which time a second thought came to me. If, 
as it appeared, Aunt Augusta still sought the 
message, what had Rosalie done with it? ’T was 
plain at once that she wished not that her mother 
should know it was in her possession; though 
why, I could not fathom, seeing that they were to¬ 
gether in their plots and schemes. Yet what 
would it advantage me to tell Aunt Augusta of 
the matter ? I could not see any profit in it, nor 
was I minded to give her any information that I 
might possess, for the pleasure of doing her a 
favor. Instead, I was well content to let her be¬ 
lieve that I had the message, as any use she might 
make of it would be that much longer delayed, if, 
in truth, Rosalie chose to keep her share of the 
affair a secret. 

“I fear I shall have to run the risk of the gal¬ 
lows yet awhile,” I replied at last with a laugh. 
“Perchance later I shall need that friend at 
court.” 

She rose to her feet, furious. 

“You mean to defy me, you silly chit!” she 
cried out. “I tell you, miss, I shall see to it that 

197 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


you are put where you ’ll not escape again in a 
hurry. This is no matter for a girl to meddle 
in. .Come, give me the message instantly! It 
can do you no good, and will only bring trouble 
on you, an you are stubborn.” 

I shook my head, determined to hold my 
tongue, and, seeing that she could not move me, 
my aunt left the house, vowing to go straight to 
Sir William Howe and have me put in irons on 
bread and water. 

In the disturbed state of the city, I felt that 
this might be no idle threat. If the message was 
of importance to the British army, it was unlikely 
that I would be dealt tenderly with because I was 
a girl; but, though I saw that annoyance might 
come of my refusal to speak, I still held to my re¬ 
solve of silence, for the time at least. 

My aunt having gone, I went back to the 
kitchen to unpack the contents of my market- 
basket, and Mrs. Brisket seemed greatly relieved 
to find me still alive. 

“A fierce woman is Madam Roberts,” she said. 
“I ’m glad to see there was naught but words be¬ 
twixt ye.” 

198 


MADAM ROBERTS STEPS IN 


“And words are not of much moment,” I said 
lightly. 

“ J T is a wonder she can find decent maids, to 
live in the house with her,” Sarah put in; “she 
and that Mrs. McDonald! They are of a like¬ 
ness, those two.” 

“Like mistress, like maid,” Mrs. Brisket re¬ 
marked. 

“Aye,” agreed Sarah; “but the tales one do 
hear of her!” And she lifted her hands at the 
thought. 

“Where do you hear of Mrs. McDonald?” I 
asked. 

“From her niece, miss,” Sarah replied. “She ’s 
a sweet girl, married and with a baby nigh to 
Jane’s age. She have wed a good patriot and 
lives not far from us. Our two children play 
much together.” 

“And that is a funny thing, too,” Mrs. Brisket 
went on. “You would think, if you believe all 
you hear, that Mrs. McDonald had no heart at 
all; but it seems she fair worships her grand¬ 
niece. Is it not so, Sarah?” 

“Aye, and hath her at the Roberts’ home when- 

199 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


ever she can,” Sarah confirmed her statement. 
“The child could have the old woman’s head, an 
she were so minded, her mother tells me. She 
will deny her naught. ’T is curious, miss, a 
hard-hearted woman like that to have such a soft¬ 
ness for a little girl.” 

But this remark I scarce heard, for at the mo¬ 
ment I was unpacking the bottom of my market 
basket, and there lay a paper, the size and quality 
of which seemed familiar. I picked it up and 
once more read a strange message: 

“What you seek will be found at Trenton in the 
Jerseys, E. P. U.” 


200 


CHAPTER XIVi 

UNCLE JOHN SPEAKS UP 

T IS impossible to describe the maze I was in 
when I read this message from E. P. U. 
It conveyed no meaning, for I was seeking 
naught, neither in Trenton nor anywhere else; 
but most astonishing to me was the fact that here 
was another communication from the hand 
which had warned General Washington that there 
was danger on the Gloucester road. I puzzled 
my head over it to no purpose, then or thereafter, 
when the whole city came to wonder with me 
who E. P. U. might be. 

But meanwhile, Aunt Augusta had been busy, 
and she was gone no more than an hour ere a 
heavy knock sounded on the door and Sarah ad¬ 
mitted two British officers, followed by orderlies 
bearing a quantity of their belongings. I went 
to receive them, to find that they were not stran¬ 
gers. 

“Well met again, Miss Patty,” said Major 


201 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


Tarlton, saluting me with a bow; and at his side, 
bending low, was Lord Fairbrook, murmuring, 
“Your obedient,” as if I had been a princess. 

“We are ordered to take up our quarters in this 
house,” the major explained. “The war has 
made us your guests for a time; but we shall hope 
to plague you as little as possible.” 

“I have my aunt to thank for that, I doubt 
not,” I replied, and would have gone on, but his 
lordship interrupted. 

“Egad, Miss Patty, I think that in truth you 
have somewhat to thank her for. It might have 
been a party of Hessians you were saddled 
with.” 

“And we shall trouble you as little as may be,” 
the major cut in. 

I invited them to sit, which they did, and Lord 
Fairbrook began to talk at random, or so it seemed 
to me. 

“Egad, ma’am,” he began, “we were led to be¬ 
lieve this city a fair haven of excitement; but 
plague take me, these Quakers give one the va¬ 
pors! Ton my soul they do! I but begin to 
laugh, when I bump into one of them on the 
street, and straightway I feel like weeping. 

202 


UNCLE JOHN SPEAKS UP 

They are fine figures of remorse to meet at every 
turn of the road.” 

“You 'll discover that there are others here be¬ 
side Quakers, Algernon. I ’ll go bail there ’ll be 
fine doings in this city when our loyal ladies are 
all returned. We shall hope to see you at our 
balls and routs, Miss Patty,” he ended. 

“Nay, sir, I am no loyal lady to your king. I 
think I shall be better suited to stay quietly in the 
house,” I answered. “At least, until we drive 
our enemies out.” 

“A truce, Miss Patty!” he cried merrily. 
“Sure we poor soldiers war not on the women 
and children, and I dislike that word enemies.” 

“Take my word for it, ma’am, the war is done, 
worse luck!” his lordship said, with a profound 
sigh. “I’m in no better fortune now than when 
I started, and, with the fighting over, my chance 
to be a major general hath gone with it.” 

“Nay, Lord Fairbrook,” I answered him, “do 
not give up hope for more fighting so easily. 
Mr. Washington is still to be reckoned with.” 

“I wish I thought so. Truly I do,” he an¬ 
swered. “But how can a man fight with such a 
crew as he has under him? Egad, ma’am, you 

203 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


should have seen the prisoners we took in this 
last fracas we had at the Brandywine. Not a 
whole uniform among ten of them. Ragged and 
half starved they looked, and glad enough I war¬ 
rant to be took.” 

“Nay, in that I know you to be wrong,” I an¬ 
swered. “Ragged they may be, but they fight 
no less well on that account.” 

“Aye, they fought,” the major agreed, with a 
smile at my eagerness to come to the defense of 
our army. “They fought like fiends, or like 
gentlemen, whichever you prefer; but they cannot 
go on, Mistress Patty. We hold your capital, 
your Congress has fled, soon your Mr. Washing¬ 
ton will have no army, and—” He shrugged. 

“Nay, I 'll not believe it,” I said stoutly. 
“There are some timid ones who talk as you do, 
Major Tarlton; but our real patriots have hearts 
of oak, and are not like to give up because we lost 
one battle where the odds were against us. If 
you had captured our army, I grant you we 
should have been—” 

“We shall have that army ere long, Miss 
Patty,” interrupted the major, confidently; “that 

204 


UNCLE JOHN SPEAKS UP 

is, if there is any of it left, General Howe will be 
after it. You may count on that.” 

“I would I thought so,” Lord Fairbrook put in 
languidly, “but I’m of the opinion that Sir 
William will consider he 9 s done enough for the 
present. He hates cold weather. Egad, I’m not 
sure we sha ’n’t be sitting here all winter looking 
at these Quakers. ’T is a dreary prospect,” he 
ended, putting his head in his hands as if he suf¬ 
fered at the thought of it. 

There was more said, and I must confess that 
the officers were courteous in every way; but 
’t was soon plain that the real reason for their be¬ 
ing sent there was something to do with the mes¬ 
sage I had found in that Continental dollar. 
What measures, if any, they took to spy upon me, 
I never knew; but for a time I felt that whenever I 
went abroad there was an eye upon my move¬ 
ments, and I doubted not that the very soles of 
my shoes and hems of my garments had been ex¬ 
amined ere my goods came from Aunt Augusta’s. 

However, Major Tarlton and Lord Fairbrook 
settled in the house, and there they were through¬ 
out the winter. The large front room was 

205 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


turned into an office for them, where they trans¬ 
acted their army business; and at the beginning 
of their stay, there was a deal of coming and go¬ 
ing of orderlies wearing the uniform I hated. 
Later, when winter set in and the British ceased 
all activities, there came scarce a soldier nigh 
us, except their body-servants. 

The major and his friend slept in the large 
room at the back of the house on the second floor, 
so that my uncle was not disturbed at all. Be¬ 
low, he and I had the small library to ourselves 
where we might retire and be alone. As a mat¬ 
ter of fact, I learned that I had much, indeed, 
to thank my aunt for, although it was scarce her 
desire to do me a kindness, because these two 
guests of ours had our comfort and convenience 
in their thoughts and, from the tales I heard 
later, other families were vastly less fortunate. 
It was not long before we settled down to friendly 
relations, and the two gentlemen were so polite 
and gracious that, had they not been enemies, 
they might easily have grown to be friends. 

It is not my intention to write much of the his¬ 
tory that was made that winter, nor to attempt 
to describe how the city fared; for that has been 

206 


UNCLE JOHN SPEAKS UP 

done many times by those who have skill at such 
writing. Rather I shall set down with as much 
brevity as possible, my own experiences. 

It was not many days after the arrival of the 
British that mighty alarms were sounded 
throughout the city, and there was a great mus¬ 
tering of soldiers, who marched out by way of 
the Germantown road. The next day news was 
spread abroad that there had been a battle, and 
Uncle John told me that many Continental pris¬ 
oners had been brought in and lodged at the 
“Provost'" as they called the place the British 
had made into a jail for war prisoners, and from 
which, alas! there came later sad tales of misery. 

As was but natural, I was much depressed at 
this hint of disaster to our forces; yet before our 
guests I kept a cheerful countenance and showed 
not that I was at all dismayed; but a day or two 
later at dinner, I heard first of an incident that 
was both surprising and encouraging. 

There were four of us at the table, the major, 
Lord Fairbrook, Uncle John, and I. As usual, 
there were only three who talked, my uncle con¬ 
tenting himself with a gruff greeting and a 
gruffer grunt when he left us. 

207 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


We were discussing the war, as we often did, 
it being an accepted fact that I was a patriot, the 
British officers treating me as an honorable en¬ 
emy, which was their own phrase for it. These 
were always amicable discussions, carried on 
with respect for the feelings of all, where we kept 
our tempers and agreed to differ. 

Upon this occasion, something was said of the 
recent battle, and Lord Fairbrook remarked that 
he feared it was but the beginning of the end, 
adding, however: 

“If your army will but hold out till I win to a 
major-general, I ’ll think ’t is the finest country 
in the world. ’Pon my soul, I will, ma’am!” 

I smiled at his earnestness, assuring him the 
struggle would last a good while yet. 

“Not if there are many battles like the last,” 
Major Tarlton put in, with a shrug. “I’m 
afraid, Mistress Patty, there would soon be none 
left in your army.” 

“There will always be others to fill up the 
ranks,” I insisted, though I fear I could not have 
said it very convincingly, for we had been told 
that it had gone badly with us and I knew we 

208 


UNCLE JOHN SPEAKS UP 

could ill afford to lose many more engagements. 

“It is not only a matter of the men in the 
ranks, Miss Patty,” Tarlton went on. “To lose 
a battle is to dishearten those who support the 
fighters. Much money is needed to carry on a 
war, and people are slow to back a losing cause. 
I dare swear there are not so many rebels in 
Philadelphia to-day as there were before your 
disaster at Germantown.” 

“It seems it was not such a disaster as we were 
led to believe, sir.” To my great surprise, Uncle 
John had spoken, and he looked directly at the 
major from under his shaggy brows. 

“Ah,” murmured the major, surprised, no 
doubt, as much as I. “You are interested then, 
Mr. Abbott?” 

“Why not?” Uncle John asked calmly. “All 
my future business depends upon the outcome of 
this struggle. I am therefore much interested in 
the truth of what happens outside the city.” 

“Egad, and that ’s reasonable,” his lordship 
put in. “Though we should like it better, sir, if 
you declared openly for the king, as a loyal sub¬ 
ject should. Ton my soul, I like not a trimmer!” 

209 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“ ’T is a better thing than paltering with the 
truth,” my uncle declared roundly, at which his 
lordship blushed darkly. 

“Sir,” he cried, “do you refer to me?” 

“Nay,” Uncle John replied. “I referred to those 
who have told us that the Rebel army was all but 
wiped out at this battle of Germantown. Your 
soldiers have published this throughout the city. 
They have told us that there was no chance for 
Mr. Washington to recover. That it was a 
mortal blow. Well, sir, we learn that this is not 
the case.” 

“And how have you learned that, Mr Abbott?” 
Major Tarlton asked gently. 

“I think you know as well as I, Major Tarl- 
ton,” Uncle returned. 

“You refer to the silly card tacked on a tree in 
the square by the state-house, perchance,” sug¬ 
gested the major. 

“You are right,” Uncle admitted. 

“But what is all this?” I asked. “I’ve heard 
of no such happening.” 

“It was posted but to-day,” Major Tarlton re¬ 
plied. 

“What did it say?” I questioned eagerly. 

210 


UNCLE JOHN SPEAKS UP 

“That, instead of wiping the Colonials out,” 
my uncle cut in, “only a heavy fog saved the 
British forces, and that, although the rebel army 
was obliged to retire, they did so in order, saving 
their artillery and leaving many British dead on 
the field. It was a very different outcome from 
what we had previously been assured of.” 

“But nobody believes this,” Major Tarlton 
said, with his easy laugh. 

“How came the message there?” I inquired. 

“No one knows or cares,” the major replied. 

“ ’T is some hoax or other,” Lord Fairbrook 
remarked, “meant to mislead these provincials.” 

“ ’Twas signed ‘E. P. U.’ ” said the major. 
“Were it true, the writer would put his whole 
name, nor be ashamed of it.” 

“How know you’t is a name the letters stand 
for?” I asked. “Rather may it not have some 
hidden significance?” 

“I have thought what it might mean,” Uncle 
John announced rather solemnly. 

“What could it mean, Uncle?” I turned to him, 
for these letters held a vast deal of interest to 
me. 

“Aye, what could the letters mean?” the major 

211 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


ejaculated. “Naught that would make sense. 
They are but the initials of some name.’' 

“Of that I am not convinced,” Uncle replied, 
his head still lowered, looking forward under 
ruffled brows. “‘E Pluribus Unum’ hath sense 
for me.” 

“Egad, that’s Latin,” said his Lordship, “and 
it means 'out of many, one.’ I have n’t forgot all 
I learned at school.” 

“But at that, it has hardly much to do with the 
case in point,” smiled the major. “What is com¬ 
ing out of many to make one? Unless ’t is one 
good beating for these Colonials.” 

“Sir,” said Uncle John, “in this great country 
of America, there have been many scattered 
colonies. From New England to the Carolinas 
and beyond, there are cities and towns whose peo¬ 
ple have selfishly thought of little beyond their 
own confines. It may be that King George, by 
his oppression, has made these many, one, and 
that, when the war is over, these shall be one 
free state! Does not my interpretation then 
carry sense? ( E Pluribus Unum / sir, may one 
day be the motto of the greatest country in the 
world.” 


212 


UNCLE JOHN SPEAKS UP 

“Your eloquence smacks of treason, Mr. Ab¬ 
bott,” said Major Tarlton, sharply. 

“Egad, I should think it did!” agreed Lord 
Fairbrook, leaning forward in his chair. 

“Nay, I take it it is more loyal to tell the king 
truth, sir, than to let him lose the finest gem in 
his crown, unwarned. If that be treason, gentle¬ 
men, you may make the most of it.” Uncle John 
said the words slowly and thoughtfully, as if he 
weighed them; but with no hint that he feared 
what might follow. 

“ ’T will be my duty to make report of this to 
Sir William Howe,” Tarlton replied. 

“That, too, may be borne with fortitude,” said 
Uncle John, easily; and I felt my heart go out to 
him as it had never done before. 

Thereafter, the more I pondered on this con¬ 
versation, the more convinced I became that 
Uncle John knew more than he admitted of this 
mysterious E. P. U. I remembered the red¬ 
headed boy who had shown me the way to his 
house; and I recollected that my uncle had told 
me to ask the first person I met to direct me. 
Could it be that the boy had been posted there 
with intention? 


213 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


Again, it was a red head I had seen dodge be¬ 
hind a tree when the suggestion had reached me 
that I go to Uncle John for protection after I 
had left Aunt Augusta’s; and before that, the 
warning from E. P. U. of danger on the Glou¬ 
cester road had been brought by a person with a 
red head. 

I grew excited as I speculated upon these facts. 
Of course, my uncle could not deliver such mes¬ 
sages in person, and where could he find a better 
one to carry out his orders than a boy who could 
neither speak nor hear—who could neither tell 
tales nor answer questions? It was apparent 
that, despite his infirmity, the lad was bright; in¬ 
deed, he seemed a perfect agent for the business 
required of him. 

So I argued, jumping fast to the conclusion 
that I had solved a mystery. My uncle’s previous 
indifference to the patriot cause; his gruff, un¬ 
mannerly bearing; the close attention to his busi¬ 
ness which gave an excuse for any eccentricity; 
all these things were but a cloak to hide his real 
purpose. He tried to show himself above sus¬ 
picion, that he might be the more free to act, and 

214 


UNCLE JOHN SPEAKS UP 

thus, even within the British lines, do all in his 
power to thwart our enemies. 

I went to sleep that night rejoicing in my heart, 
and certain that in Uncle John I had discovered 
the identity of E. P. U. 


215 


CHAPTER XV 


WINTER PASSES INTO SPRING 

[ T may be wondered why I did not tax Uncle 
John with being the author of the messages 
from E. P. U. and so dispel any doubt I might 
have. Indeed, I came near to doing that very 
thing, for there were opportunities a-plenty. I 
first noted a change in his demeanor toward me 
soon after the*British officers took up their abode 
with us. Instead of going out in the evening, as 
had been his custom, he remained indoors, and 
together we spent the hours after dark in the 
small library, reading, and even talking some¬ 
what of what went on in the city. As the months 
passed he was still gruff, but a kindlier note had 
crept into his voice, and now and then I would 
find him watching me over the pages of his book. 
At such times I fancied I caught in his eyes a 
softer light, which reminded me of Father. 

Also, the management of the housekeeping be- 

216 


WINTER PASSES INTO SPRING 


came a matter which was left wholly to me. 
That is, any question which Mrs. Brisket might 
not wish to decide for herself, Uncle John re¬ 
ferred to me, and this set the old housekeeper in 
a glow of delight. 

“ ’T is certain he grows to love you, Miss 
Patty,” she confided, “otherwise he would not bid 
me ask whether you wanted this or that.” 

Another less devoted than Mrs. Brisket might 
have resented taking orders from a person of my 
youth, after so many years of authority; but in 
truth, there were no orders given, seeing that I 
did naught without consulting her and it was 
only by mutual agreement that decisions were ar¬ 
rived at. 

So it will be plain that, had I wished, I could 
have asked Uncle John whether or not he was 
the E. P. U. who signed the strange communica¬ 
tions I and many others had seen; but when it 
came to the point of speaking, I decided it was 
wiser for me to hold my tongue. If, indeed, he 
were what I thought him, it was evident he 
wished not to confide in any one. He knew of 
the messages I had received and preferred that 
naught be said, else would he have opened the 

217 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


subject; and it seemed to me that no matter how 
positive I might be, it were better to respect his 
wish than to satisfy my curiosity. To be sure, 
there was much I should have liked more fully 
explained; but had Uncle desired me to know 
more, he would have told me. This was ever 
my conclusion. I should learn all in good time; 
meanwhile, I proposed to hide my secret and not 
even by a wise look let him guess that I had pen¬ 
etrated the mystery. 

The echo of the battle of Germantown was 
only the first of a series of such bulletins that 
came to fire the spirits of those many good pa¬ 
triots who were left in the city. In October we 
learned from E. P. U. that General Burgoyne had 
surrendered with all his forces, and great was 
our rejoicing; for by this time the people had 
abundant faith in these announcements. The 
British in a rage denied the report; but nearly a 
month later, Sir William Howe was obliged to ac¬ 
knowledge that is was true. 

Again, during the winter, it was spread abroad 
by our enemies that General Washington had died 
at Valley Forge, and among us patriots there was 
much sorrow and anxiety. But one morning 

218 


WINTER PASSES INTO SPRING 


E. P. U. posted upon the door of the state-house 
a notice to the effect that our commander-in-chief 
was alive and well. 

By this time there was a buzz over the city 
concerning the identity of the individual who had 
the wit and audacity thus to outface the British, 
and from Major Tarlton I learned that every ef¬ 
fort was being made to capture the man; but, so 
far, without result. There were times when I 
feared for Uncle John; but he seemed in no wise 
perturbed and never showed himself aware that 
aught out of the ordinary was going on. 

Moreover, by this time certain things had oc¬ 
curred that shook my faith in my own theory. 
The red-headed deaf-and-dumb boy I had seen 
often upon the street and at the market, where he 
was well known and pitied. He was usually to 
be found there, of a morning, ready to earn a cop¬ 
per by carrying a basket home for any lady who 
came for her supplies unattended; but I noted 
that it was always the Tory women for whom he 
performed this service, and I began to doubt if, 
indeed, his could be the hand that served E. P. U., 
for on more than one occasion I had also seen him 
trotting along in company with British officers, 

219 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


and I scarce ever passed Sir William Howe’s 
headquarters without catching a glimpse of his 
red head. 

These facts caused me to speculate over 
whether it could have been Uncle John whose in¬ 
formation had encouraged the patriots in the 
city; for if this same red-headed boy were not his 
messenger, my theory must fall to the ground. 
And this, in turn, led me to see on what small evi¬ 
dence I had based it. 

So the days sped by. There were many fash¬ 
ionable and gay parties throughout the winter; 
but I speak of them only because of an incident 
that occurred to me. 

Lord Fairbrook and Major Tarlton requested 
that tea might be served for them of an after-' 
noon, and, they being most courteous, I was glad 
enough to see that they had their wish. Doubt¬ 
less the gentlemen were anxious to return in some 
measure the hospitalities they had received at 
other houses, and so, on stated afternoons, many 
Tory fine ladies might be seen descending from 
their chairs and mounting the steps of our house. 
It was all vastly lively and entertaining, and I 
should have liked well to join the company had the 

220 


WINTER PASSES INTO SPRING 


circumstances been other than they were; but in 
spite of pressing invitations from the gentlemen 
to pour for them, I held aloof, caring not to ap¬ 
pear with our enemies. 

To these afternoon routs came my Aunt Au¬ 
gusta and Rosalie, and one day, as they were about 
to leave, the former sent Sarah to my room to 
say that she wished to speak to me below on a 
matter of importance. 

I went down to her with some reluctance, ex¬ 
pecting an unpleasant interview, but scarce guess¬ 
ing it would prove as sorrowful as it turned out 
to be. 

She met me with a haughty stare and a scorn¬ 
ful toss of her head. 

“Well, miss/’ she began at once, “art as stiff¬ 
necked a rebel as when I last saw thee?” 

“Aye, and more so, Aunt Augusta,” I replied 
angrily, for I liked not this suggestion that I 
might go over to the enemy. 

“I warn thee, child, the end of thy silly rebel¬ 
lion is in sight. ’T would be well to change thy 
politics ere it is too late.” 

“They will not change,” I retorted. “I would 
that I were a man and able to strike a blow for 


221 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

the cause, instead of a weak girl who can do 
naught. But you cannot fright me, Aunt Au¬ 
gusta. I have no fear that there will soon be an 
end to this 'silly rebellion/ as you call it, unless 
you mean that the British have given over hope 
of winning.” 

She flamed at this in a mighty anger. 

"Have a care, miss, over thy tongue!” she 
burst out. "I could have thee jailed for less 
treasonous talk, an thou tempt me to set about it. 
Moreover, count not upon my brother John to 
help thee when the need arises. He knows which 
side his bread is buttered.” 

“I have my own brother,” I returned. 

"Aye, who will be hanged for a rebel,” she cut 
in bitterly. 

"They will not hang Father, in any event,” I 
replied, and laughed at her anger. 

"Wouldst care for word of thy father?” she 
asked, and there was no doubt in her mind of my 
answer, for she went on: "I will exchange it 
with you for you know what.” 

Dumbly I shook my head. I could not give her 
what I had not, but my eyes went to Rosalie im- 

222 


WINTER PASSES INTO SPRING 


ploringly, to find that she looked from the win¬ 
dow, refusing to meet my gaze. 

“Father will soon be here to speak for him¬ 
self,” I said hopefully. 

“That he will not,” Aunt Augusta declared, her 
wrath at my refusal getting the better of her 
judgment. “Know you not that the Saucy Sally 
foundered upon the French coast? There is 
somewhat for you to think on, and mayhap you 
will keep a civiler tongue in your head the next 
time I send for you.” With that she quitted the 
house in a fine temper. 

But this news left me scarce conscious of her 
going. So sudden was the blow that for a time I 
could not compass it; and then, like a black cloud 
the purport of it enveloped me, and I knew only 
that my heart was like to break with the thought 
that my dear father was lost and that I should 
never see him more. 

I ran up to my room and threw myself upon 
the bed, weeping. Never since Father had left 
had I been free of the ache of anxiety on his ac¬ 
count; and now I should never see him again! 
All about me were enemies who were glad to 

223 



A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


make me suffer. My aunt’s words seemed a 
prophecy, and in my black despair I felt that Val, 
too, must fall a victim in this bitter struggle. 

I knew not how the time sped, but lay upon my 
face, letting the tears flow as they might, caring 
not what happened. Of a sudden I heard the 
door open and the quick fall of footsteps as some 
one sped to my bedside. 

“Patty, Patty!” I heard a voice say. “ ’Tis 
not true what she made you think. The Saucy 
Sally foundered, but all aboard her were saved. 
We Ve known it for a fortnight, and I Ve tried to 
find a chance to tell you.” 

In a sort of dream I recognized the voice, but 
could not credit my ears; yet at the earnest words 
I turned and looked up into the face of my cousin 
Rosalie. Before I could speak, however, she had 
leaned forward, kissed me upon the cheek, and 
hurried from the room. 

“Rosalie! Rosalie!” I called after her; but she 
did not stop, and I was too thankful at the moment 
to do aught but to continue to sob, now half hys¬ 
terically. 

As I grew calmer I began to appreciate the 
kindness that had prompted her to come to me. 

224 


WINTER PASSES INTO SPRING 

I had ranked her with her mother; but thereafter, 
in spite of the fact that I knew she would do all 
in her power to wreck the cause I loved, I could 
never forget that she had come to lift a bitter load 
from my heart, and I would always be grateful 
for the humanity of her action. 

I sent a letter to her the next day, thanking her 
for her thought of me; but no answer was re¬ 
turned, and, as the weeks sped on, I remembered 
only that Father had reached France safely, and 
began to wonder when he might be expected 
home, saying a prayer each night that his jour¬ 
ney back would be a safe one. 

The winter passed quickly, and soon I was 
gladdened by the sight of the first flowers of 
spring pushing up their young leaves through the 
wet earth. Once again the trees were clothed in 
tender green, and the warm winds brought hope 
and promise. It was a pleasure to be abroad, and 
scarce a day passed that I was not out taking the 
air. 

One afternoon, near the first of May, I was 
strolling aimlessly about the state-house park 
when I felt a tug at my skirts, and, looking down, 
discovered the red-headed boy grinning at me. 

225 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


Quick as a flash he pointed to a tree, and, as I 
looked, he disappeared. My eye caught a square 
of paper affixed to the dark trunk. Going to it, 
I read as follows: 

“To the patriots of Philadelphia. The French 
Government has made a treaty with the United Colo¬ 
nies of America. This news is true. Victory is in 
sight! E. P. U.” 

Here before my eyes was glorious news. At 
last the French king had openly espoused our 
cause, and with that great nation to help us, it 
truly seemed as if victory was in sight, as the 
message read. 

So glad was I that I restrained not the cry of 
joy that burst through my lips, and in another 
moment I was surrounded by people all eagerly 
scanning the announcement upon the tree. They, 
too, greeted the message with shouts of approval, 
and I found myself at the center of a throng, cry¬ 
ing the news at the top of their lungs, caring 
naught, it seemed, for the fact that British sol¬ 
diers were everywhere about us. 

Suddenly a warning was called and the red¬ 
coats were upon us, scattering the crowd right 
and left, but doing no harm. I saw the paper 

226 


WINTER PASSES INTO SPRING 


stripped from its place, but it was too late to keep 
the purport of it hidden. Moreover, I heard later 
that it had been posted before the Quaker Meet¬ 
ing-house and in several other places in the city. 
Ere nightfall all knew of it; and though our Brit¬ 
ish masters tried to suppress all demonstrations, 
here and there a bonfire burned in celebration and 
in the air was a feeling of joy and gladness that 
the hardest measures could not put down. 

When I had a chance to think more calmly over 
what had happened I remembered who had 
pointed the tree out to me, and I at once jumped 
to the conclusion that my red-headed boy had 
himself placed the paper there, which brought 
back the conviction that Uncle John was behind 
it all. I forgot that I had seen the boy in com¬ 
pany with the British, and once more felt certain 
that I, for one, knew the identity of e. p. u. 

I wanted to hug Uncle John that night, but 
dared not. At table I looked to see if I could 
catch a gleam of superior knowledge in his eye 
as he listened to Major Tarlton and Lord Fair- 
brook declare that *t was impossible that France 
would make any such treaty with Washington 
and his ragamuffins; but I saw naught, and he 

227 




A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

held his peace while we were in the presence of 
our enemies. 

But after we were alone in the library he leaned 
close to me and whispered, “ ’T is true, Patty, my 
dear. And I knew not which thrilled me the 
more, the renewal of the conviction that he was 
E. P. U. or the fact that he had called me “dear” 
for the first time. 

But these matters became of less moment to 
me soon; for one evening as I walked alone in 
the garden after supper, I heard a scratching 
against the outer wall, and instantly a man 
dropped to the ground beside me. He turned, and 
I looked into the face of my brother Val, who 
was dressed from top to toe as a Quaker. 

“Val!” I exclaimed, “what are you doing 
here?” 

“Hush!” he cautioned; “not so loud, Patty. 
I’m not anxious to hear that name. Mine is 
plain John Sharpless, and I tell thee, miss, I ’m 
not looking to be caught. Where canst thou put 
me for the night?” 

“I dare not take you into the house,” I said, 
all a-tremble at this sudden responsibility. “We 

228 


WINTER PASSES INTO SPRING 


have two officers quartered on us and they might 
see you.” 

“Nay, I did not expect that,” he acknowledged. 
“How about the cellar? I can hide there, can I 
not ?” 

“I suppose so,” I replied vaguely, for I knew 
little of what lay below the first floor. 

“Then let’s get in there,” he said; and I led 
him across the garden to where a stone stairway 
went down into the cellar. In a moment we were 
both inside with the door shut above us. 

There he told me that he was upon an adven¬ 
ture to see how the British fared and to gain as 
much information as he could ere an attack was 
planned by our forces. He had been about the 
city all that morning and afternoon, and found it 
so easy to obtain the desired news that he had de¬ 
cided to prolong his visit for a day or two. 

“There ’s much I might learn about their forti¬ 
fications,” he ended with a chuckle. 

“But, Val, it is n’t safe,” I said. 

“Oh, yes, it is,” he replied confidently. “The 
British hate the Quakers, yet ’t is policy to be 
friendly with them; so they let them do what they 

229 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


please, while giving a wide berth to every broad- 
brimmed hat they see.” 

“Are you sure?” I insisted. 

“Positive,” he replied. “Now up with thee 
and fetch me something to eat. I care not what, 
so there is plenty of it.” 

I did as he bade me, and on my return had an¬ 
other talk with him as he ate, learning much of 
the winter and the misery all had suffered at Val¬ 
ley Forge; but that was behind them now, all 
was well with the army, and they looked forward 
to the time when they should be upon the 
march. 

I left him at last, promising myself to see him 
again in the morning; but at this he demurred, 
saying that he must be gone ere daylight, but 
would return again in the evening. I confess that 
I was in sore anxiety on Val’s account and slept 
little that night for thinking of him surrounded 
by his enemies. I could not shut my mind to 
the fact that, were he taken, he must be tried 
as a spy, which meant a sad and disgraceful 
end. 

On the other hand, there seemed little likeli¬ 
hood that he would be in danger while he stayed 

230 


WINTER PASSES INTO SPRING 

in the cellar and, bearing this thought in mind, at 
length I fell asleep. 

The next morning, as I had expected, I found 
him gone. 




231 







CHAPTER XVI 


TRAPPED 

T HAT day I was the prey to all sorts of fore¬ 
bodings on Val’s account. In the after¬ 
noon I went out as usual to take the air; but I 
had no pleasure in it, thinking that at any corner 
I might come upon him in the hands of the Brit¬ 
ish. In a hundred ways I pictured him in my 
mind as taken. I feared he might betray him¬ 
self with his faulty Quaker speech, and each 
sounding of the knocker brought a sharp intake 
of the breath as I listened to hear who entered, 
dreading a message telling me that he had been 
captured. 

Impatiently I waited for the evening to draw 
in; but naught happened until late in the after¬ 
noon, when Sarah came to me with word from 
Major Tarlton that he wished to speak to me in 
his room below. Instantly the summons struck 
terror to my heart. I was assured in my own 

232 


TRAPPED 


mind that I should hear Val had been caught and 
that his fate was but a question of a day at the 
most. I had no hope that he would escape the 
sentence that had been Nathan Hale’s, if once he 
fell into the hands of the British. 

I went down with trembling limbs, scarce 
knowing how I should find the courage to face 
my enemy, but meaning to be brave to meet the 
worst. 

I found Lord Fairbrook with Major Tarlton. 
They jumped to their feet at my entrance and 
begged me to sit. 

“What is it, gentlemen?” I asked, as I dropped 
into a chair. 

Evidently my face betrayed something of the 
strain under which I labored, for Major Tarlton 
looked down at me with a kindly air. 

“Oh, ’t is no fearful matter, Miss Patty,” he 
said. “At least, ’t is no affair of life and death. 
Though serious enough, after all.” 

This lifted a huge burden from my heart and 
put me at my ease. It could have naught to do 
with Val, then, and I cared not what else they 
wanted of me. 

“ ’T is the same old question, Miss Patty,” 

233 



A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

Lord Fairbrook remarked, as he too sat down. 
“I told ’em they might save themselves the trou¬ 
ble; but, egad, they won’t listen to me.” 

“What is it?” I demanded anew, a little puz¬ 
zled. 

“It has to do with a missive concealed within 
a Continental dollar,” Major Tarlton replied. 
“Mayhap you have forgot it.” 

“I have not forgot that you told me of some 
such thing,” I answered, at which Lord Fair- 
brook gave a chuckle. 

“Listen carefully, Miss Patty,” the major went 
on calmly, “and please believe that I am now very 
much in earnest. I will tell you frankly what 
you know already. A certain cipher message 
was lost and fell into the hands of a young lady. 
We knew that she could not read it, and, rather 
than discommode her, we thought to gain the in¬ 
formation anew from the one who wrote it. He 
was a prisoner among our enemies, and it was not 
easy to get into communication with him. In¬ 
deed, it is but now that we have discovered that 
the only man who knew what was written on that 
paper is no longer living. You see, it then be- 

234 


TRAPPED 

comes necessary to use what power we have to 
find the original.” 

“And you are to be the executioner, sir,” I 
murmured, as he finished. “You come with an 
army at your back to bend the will of a girl. 
’T is a fine show of gallantry, Major Tarlton.” 

In truth, I was so overjoyed to find that Val 
was not taken that my courage had surged back 
into my heart and I would have defied Sir Wil¬ 
liam Howe himself. 

“Pray, be not so hard on us,” Tarlton returned. 
“The matter is of vast importance to us; but we 
think not to need an army.” 

“I fear it will come to that, Major Tarlton,” I 
replied. 

“Egad, Tarlton, we shall need a regiment with 
artillery!” Lord Fairbrook cried. “ ’T is a stout 
army to defy; yet unless I’m much mistaken, 
we ’ll need all of it. And ’pon my soul, Miss 
Patty, I admire your courage, ma’am.” 

“But see, Miss Patty,” Tarlton went on, ignor¬ 
ing his brother officer; “in the first place, the mes¬ 
sage we seek you had from us, or rather from me. 
That you must admit.” 


235 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“Nay, Major Tarlton, I admit nothing,” I said 
laughingly. “I find admissions are entangling 
things. We will say that you take it for granted 
that I found something that belonged to you and 
have still kept it—a sentimental relic, I think you 
called it.” 

“It did not belong to me,” he interrupted. 
“Were it mine, I should let you keep it and wel¬ 
come, for it can scarce do you any good; but see¬ 
ing that I was naught more than the bearer of the 
paper, it is rightly no personal matter, but one 
that concerns our army.” 

“Therefore a valuable possession to be in the 
hands of your enemies, sir,” I answered. 

“But it will do our enemies no good,” he replied 
patiently. “For the sake of argument, Miss 
Patty, let us say that you found a piece of paper 
upon which there are certain marks.” 

“For the sake of argument I will admit any¬ 
thing, Major Tarlton,” I replied with a smile. 

“Good!” he exclaimed, and went on. “Even 
could you read the marks on that paper, you 
would not then know any more than you do now. 
But you cannot read even so much. We know 
the message is in code, for we ourselves could not 

236 


TRAPPED 


decipher it, and I was taking it to headquarters 
for that very purpose. Otherwise, we should not 
care particularly whether you had it or not.” 

“But I have not said I have the message now, 
Major Tarlton,” I replied, “even for the sake of 
your argument.” 

“We are satisfied that you have it, Miss Patty, 
so pray give it up and spare me an irksome duty. 
I have my orders, and, failing by fair means, I 
must use what force I may to obtain your sub¬ 
mission. I pray you save me from that.” 

He spoke very sincerely, and I doubt not he 
hated to deal harshly with a girl; but I had no 
thought of yielding and smiled at the idea that he 
could force me to speak. 

“Here’s where we send off post-haste for the 
army, Tarlton,” his lordship said languidly. “I 
told you how it would be.” 

“Am I then to understand that you will not 
give up the paper?” the major asked. 

“For the sake of argument, Major Tarlton,” I 
replied, “presuming that I have what you are 
looking for, I shall not give it up.” 

“I ’m sorry,” he declared, with a tone of sin¬ 
cere regret in his voice. “It goes against me 

237 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

mightily to have to make a prisoner of you, Miss 
Patty.” 

“On bread and water?” I suggested, knowing 
that he would remember my aunt’s threat. 

“No, no!” he answered hastily; “but we must 
hold you in custody until we have what we wish 
from you.” 

“Shall we go at once to the prison, Major Tarl- 
ton?” I asked, assuming a hardihood I was far 
from feeling, because I little liked the idea of be¬ 
ing shut up in the jail, but was none the less bent 
upon showing a stout heart and an indifference as 
to what they did to me. 

“Your prison shall be your own home, Mis¬ 
tress Patty,” he returned with a smile. “We 
shall not put you behind iron bars yet awhile.” 

“What mean you?” 

“Simply that you will not be permitted to leave 
the house—that is all,” he answered. “We do 
not wish you to hold any communication with any 
one for the time being. It is hardly necessary 
for me to explain why.” 

“But how will you keep me in?” I inquired 
innocently, for being a prisoner seemed to me to 
mean locked doors and barred windows. 

238 



TRAPPED 

“Simply by posting guards at the front and 
back with instructions that no one, without a 
pass, may enter or leave," he replied. 

“ ’T is for that duty the army is summoned, 
Miss Patty/' his lordship put in. 

“You mean you will guard this house ?" I cried, 
a sudden fear entering my heart. 

'‘Yes, that’s it exactly/' the major agreed. 
"But why should that so startle you, Miss 
Patty?" 

"I—I was thinking of my uncle," I said, hesi¬ 
tatingly. 

"You need not worry about him," he told me. 
“We shall give him a pass." 

“But—but—" I began, and then stopped. In¬ 
deed, here was a situation I had not foreseen. If 
the house were to be guarded front and back, 
then would Val be taken as sure as that the sun 
would rise. There was no way for me to warn 
him, and he would come over the garden wall all 
unsuspecting and be caught in his Quaker dress. 
Being a soldier, that would mean death as a spy. 
At any cost, that must not be allowed to happen. 
Here I found myself in a cleft stick. Having re¬ 
fused haughtily, I must now entertain the thought 

239 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


of telling what I knew, for at any hazard the 
house must not be surrounded by guards. 

“But I am only a guest here—I certainly have 
no wish to bring irksome restrictions on my un¬ 
cle’s house,” I said with a pout. 

“Egad, it almost seems as if the maid would 
rather go to jail!” Lord Fairbrook cried. 

“I have no wish to be shut up anywhere,” I 
protested; “nor do I think it a proper way to 
treat a maid.” 

“Seeing that the maid is a very stubborn one, 
there ’s naught else for it,” Major Tarlton re¬ 
marked half jestingly; and then, more seriously, 
“Pray believe, Mistress Patty, that we mean to 
have that message from you. It is no light mat¬ 
ter, I assure you; and though you will be treated 
with all consideration, a prisoner you shall be 
until the matter is decided.” He rose as if to go. 

“But—but I did not think you really meant it,” 
I said falteringly. “In truth, I have it not. I 
but thought it sport to mislead you.” 

“Nay, we know that you have it,” Tarlton re¬ 
plied positively. “It is useless to deny it.” 

“What I tell you now is true, Major Tarlton,” 
I insisted. “I did have it, but my cousin Rosalie 

240 


TRAPPED 


searched my portmantle the night you were at 
Madam Roberts', and she took it." 

I spoke with earnestness, and I think it was 
evident to him that I was speaking the truth. 

“What you tell me is scarce believable, Mistress 
Patty," he said slowly. 

“And why not, Tarlton?" his lordship cut in. 
“I would not trust the old lady for not making 
-off with the gold herself. ’T would be like her." 

“Gad, that ’s possible," Major Tarlton nodded, 
and then turned to me. “Is this indeed true that 
you tell me?" 

“It is, sir," I assured him. “You were there 
yourself and heard Rosalie say that she was 
wearied of politics and saw her leave us. It was 
while she was upstairs that my box was rifled." 

“But Madam Roberts insists that you have it, 
and surely—" He stopped as if not wishing to 
say more or else struck by a sudden thought. 

“ 'T is plain Miss Patty is telling the truth," 
his lordship was good enough to say; “and ? t is 
easy to guess what has happened. They have a 
mind to make their fortune." 

“I believe you are right!" Major Tarlton ex¬ 
claimed, his face flushing. “They think to make 

241 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

a tidy fortune and leave me to play the fool for 
my pains. Come, Algernon, we ’ll get to the 
bottom of this now. Miss Patty, have I your 
word not to leave this house?” 

“Until when, Major Tarlton?” I asked. 

“Till I come back again,” he answered. 

“But I know not when that will be,” I replied 
cautiously. 

“Within two hours,” he promised; and I gave 
my word to stay within till then. 

I saw them leave with a lightened heart. The 
issue was now forced, and Rosalie would be 
obliged to confess that she had taken the message. 
That the two gentlemen believed me I had not 
the least doubt, so I felt that, in the circumstances, 
the house would not be guarded, which was the 
one thing I cared about; for I was convinced that 
whatever news the message contained, it was not 
worth the risk of Val’s capture. 

I waited alone at the window of the front 
room, for with each passing moment I felt that 
the risk Val was running grew heavier and 
heavier. One thing, however, I had learned 
from this interview with Major Tarlton—the 

242 


TRAPPED 

message, wherever it was, concerned a quantity 
of money. Lord Fairbrook had mentioned gold 
and the major had spoken of it as a fortune. To 
me, all the gold in the world could not pay for 
Val's life, and I regretted not that I had told the 
secret, which will make it plain that I am no hero¬ 
ine of romance. 

But my feeling was short-lived. In less than 
an hour I saw, coming along the street, Major 
Tarlton and four soldiers. They reached the 
house and stopped. The major posted one of the 
men to guard the front and disappeared with two 
of the others to be placed outside the walls. He 
returned presently, and, upon being admitted, 
brought the last of his guards through the house 
and left him within the garden. Then, and then 
only, he came back to me. 

“Mistress Abbott,” he said, and his tone was 
that of a man who had been ruffled in his temper. 
“I have posted the house so that none may leave 
or enter without my permission. I regret to say 
that you are a prisoner.” 

“But why, sir?” I asked, as I rose trembling to 
my feet. 


243 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

“Because your cousin, Mistress Rosalie Rob¬ 
erts, denies that she has the message, and I credit 
her denial,” he answered. 

“That means that you do not believe me!” I 
cried angrily, getting my spirit back. 

He paused a moment before replying, then he 
said, half musingly, “Yes, Miss Patty, I believe 
you too.” 

“But you cannot believe both me and my 
cousin,” I insisted. 

“Oh, yes, I can,” he answered. “Does it not 
occur to you that some one else may have taken 
that message from your portmantle?” 

“No,” I retorted angrily, “I found a dress pin 
of my cousin’s in the portmantle, so that I know 
she was the one who searched it.” 

He looked at me with an expression of great 
surprise, and muttered something under his 
breath; but I cared little what he thought of what 
I had told him. -The house was surrounded by 
British soldiers, while at any moment Val might 
attempt to climb the garden wall. 


244 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE MAJOR GOES A-IIUNTING 

I N a panic I left Major Tarlton, half conscious 
that he stared at me curiously, but so dis¬ 
traught with the thought of Val’s impending cap¬ 
ture that all other considerations were banished 
from my mind. My only hope lay in the pos¬ 
sibility that he might have decided to leave the 
city and would not attempt to spend another night 
in the cellar. 

I went straight to the kitchen, and there found 
Mrs. Brisket trembling with suppressed excite¬ 
ment, her pale face betraying that something was 
amiss. 

“What is it?” I gasped, for at the moment I 
was sure she would tell me that my brother was 
a prisoner. 

“ ’T is Master Val,” she whispered. 

“They Ve taken him ?” I murmured, and felt 
the tears starting in my eyes. 

245 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

“Nay, not yet,” she replied. “He ’s in the cel¬ 
lar this minute. He jumped the wall a few sec¬ 
onds before Major Tarlton brought the soldiers. 
He’s safe enough for a time; but, miss, I’m 
afeared they ’ll find him.” 

I drew a deep breath of relief. The news was 
most welcome. We had a chance to turn around, 
and at least he should not be captured unawares. 
There would be an opportunity to plan his escape, 
and my spirits rose with a courage to face the 
situation bravely. 

“I must go to him,” I said; but Mrs. Brisket 
shook her head. 

“There’s one of them redcoats in the garden, 
miss,” she warned me. 

I had not forgotten that, nor the fact that the 
cellar must be entered by the steps leading down 
from the garden; but I must see my brother to 
advise him of his peril, for otherwise he was like 
to come out of hiding right into the arms of one 
of the guards. 

The dusk was falling when, with as indifferent 
an air as I could assume, I went out to see how 
the sentry was placed. I found him walking 

246 



THE MAJOR GOES A-HUNTING 

toward the far wall, as luck would have it, with 
his back to me for the moment. Impulsively, in 
one bound, I was beside the cellar door and, as 
quickly as I could manage, had opened it and 
stepped down, letting it shut gently above my 
head. Too late, I thought I should have invented 
some errand to send Mrs. Brisket to the cellar; 
I could only pray that the man had not seen me, 
realizing that, if fortune were against us, he might 
have turned at the wrong moment for us and we 
should be trapped. There was now no way for 
me to make certain, so I stepped down into the 
darkness. 

“Val!” I called under my breath as I groped 
around in the gloom. 

“Here I am/’ he answered. “What ’s wrong ?” 

“Everything ’s wrong/’ I returned. 

“I could tell that from your voice. What is 
it?” 

“The garden is posted, with two sentries out¬ 
side and one within. Another is set at the front 
door. Oh, Val, you ’re hemmed in and can’t get 
away.” I spoke hurriedly, letting him know the 
worst at once. 


24 7 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

“ 'T is ill news,” he said, half to himself. “I 
meant to leave the city to-morrow morning. 
How came they to know I was here?” 

“They don't know it,” I told him. “They 're 
here on my account, because of a message I found 
long ago at Springhill.” And I recounted hastily 
the story of the Continental dollar and the paper 
I had found within it. 

He heard me through without a word and at 
the end murmured his astonishment. 

“ 'T is a strange business,” he commented, “and 
there must be more behind it than you guessed. 
The British would n’t go to all this trouble if it 
were of small importance. Think you Rosalie is 
not telling the truth ?” 

“I cannot believe she is,” I answered. “Yet I 
see not why she should so deceive them. 
There is no good reason for that.” 

He agreed with me; but his mind was only half 
upon what we were saying. 

“I must get out of this, Patty,” he declared 
after a moment. “Tell me again how matters 
stand outside.” 

“ 'T is impossible for you to escape without be- 

248 



THE MAJOR GOES A-HUNTING 

ing seen/' I protested as earnestly as I could. 
'‘The danger is—” 

"They must change the guards sometime,” he 
broke in impatiently. “The same men can’t be 
there always, and—” 

“Aye, but we must wait till we find out when/’ 
I interrupted. “The chance may come, but not 
to-night.” 

“But I have important information to give Gen¬ 
eral Washington,” he insisted. “I must get to 
him. Are there any soldiers inside the house?” 

“There are no guards, but Major Tarlton and 
Lord Fairbrook are quartered on us, as I told you, 
and one of their orderlies may appear in the 
kitchen at any moment. Then there ’s the sentry 
at the front door. You can’t get away without 
being seen.” 

“None the less, I must go,” he asserted in so 
determined a voice that my fears for him were 
redoubled. “If I but had a sword, I could get by 
the man at the front of the house.” 

“Aye, and be taken ere you’d gone half the 
length of the street,” I reminded him. “A fight¬ 
ing Quaker would be a new sight! You know as 

249 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


well as I that the city is filled with British, and, 
once a cry was raised, you could not hope to es¬ 
cape.” 

“That ’s true, too,” he replied. “An I’m to get 
away at all, it can’t be done with shouting. How 
many did you say were posted about the garden?” 

“Two outside and one in.” 

“It will be a rather desperate chance,” he mur¬ 
mured to himself, “yet must I take it. But first 
must I find a club.” 

“Val, you can’t go to-night,” I protested. “I 
pray you not to attempt it. A day or two cannot 
make any vital difference and by that time we 
may learn how matters stand. Please say you 
won’t risk it to-night.” 

“Nay, that I cannot do,” he replied stubbornly. 
“To-night will be the best of times to make the at¬ 
tempt. The soldiers are not yet familiar with 
their beats and I can slip between them and run for 
it. Given the length of the street at night, and 
none will know a peaceful Quaker for the man 
who ran away from them. If I am to get off, it 
must be done soon, before they have reason to 
suspect any one is concealed here.” 

“But you will at least wait till I find out when 

250 


THE MAJOR GOES A-HUNTING 

the guards are changed,” I begged anxiously. 
He seemed determined to make an effort to es¬ 
cape, but, having no faith in his plan, I still hoped 
to delay him and later persuade him to postpone 
the attempt. 

“Oh, I sha’n’t start this minute/’ he replied 
with a faint chuckle. “But, Patty, my dear, I’m 
a soldier and must think of my duty before my 
skin. The information I have gained will be very 
welcome to our general.” 

“It will do him no good an you are taken,” I 
rejoined, half angrily. And seeing that there was 
no answer to this, I moved toward the steps, mean¬ 
ing to leave the cellar. But as I touched the door 
above my head I heard the slow, heavy footfall of 
a man coming nearer and a gruff voice humming 
a tune which I recognized as one I had heard the 
British soldiers singing. I knew that the sentry 
was close at hand and I crouched down, holding 
my breath lest he should hear my hurried breath¬ 
ing. 

Nearer came the deliberate tread and stopped. 
There in the darkness it needed little imagination 
to picture the man looking down, perchance try¬ 
ing to make up his mind whether or not to lift 

251 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


the door. I pressed my hand to my heart to 
smother its beating which drummed in my ears 
so loudly that I thought it must be heard outside, 
like the thumping of a drum. 

“And are you hungry, Mr. Soldier?” Unex¬ 
pectedly the words came to me and I knew the 
voice to be Mrs. Brisket’s. “If so you be, come in 
and Til give you a bite, though I like not the color 
of your uniform.” I drew a breath of relief, 
knowing as well as if she had told me that the 
good housekeeper was trying to find me a chance 
to escape. 

“ ’T is a fine color for a uniform, ma’am,” the 
soldier replied. 

“ ’T is a fine color for a lobster,” she snapped; 
at which the sentry laughed. 

“Aye, but you must boil ’em first,” he retorted, 
“an I doubt you have pots enough to boil all the 
lobsters in this town.” He laughed again, think¬ 
ing to have made a joke. 

“The pots will be found,” Mrs. Brisket an¬ 
swered stoutly; “but meanwhile, I take it there is 
a man beneath the uniform, and him I ’ll feed an 
he comes into my kitchen, for a hungry man is 
ever a cross-grained creature.” 

252 


THE MAJOR GOES A-HUNTING 

“Nay, ma’am, I’m neither cross-grained nor a 
creature, askin’ your pardon,” he answered; “but 
as to bein’ hungry, I’m always that.” 

“Then come in and have done with your talk,” 
Mrs. Brisket insisted. 

“That cannot be, ma’am,” he answered. “I’ve 
my orders to walk in the garden here, and, till 
nine of the clock, here I stay.” 

“You mean you may not come into the kitchen, 
man?” Mrs. Brisket asked; and though there was 
surprise in her tone, I heard anxiety also. 

“That’s what I mean, ma’am,” he answered. 
“Not that I don’t give you thanks for an invitation 
to a bite, nor that I would n’t relish a sup as well; 
but orders is orders, and here I’m bound to stay 
till my relief comes. After that, ma’am I ’ll step 
into your kitchen right gladly.” 

“Nay, I ’ll be abed ere that hour,” Mrs. Brisket 
answered. “ ’T is now or never, Mr. Soldier.” 
And then she must have started indoors, for he 
called to her more loudly. 

“Wait a bit, ma’am. What might this lead 
to ?” And I heard a thump as if he had dropped 
the butt of his musket on the door. 

“ ’T is the door into the cellar, to be sure,” Mrs. 

253 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

Brisket answered, coolly enough, though I knew 
she was sore frighted. 

“I ’ve a notion to see down into it,” the soldier 
announced. 

And then Mrs. Brisket cried a warning: “Nay, 
man, I ’ll lift it for you. The latch hath a trick to 
it, and—” 

I heard not the end of the sentence, but dropped 
back noiselessly to the cellar floor and then into 
the shadows against the wall. Val seized my 
arm and drew me still farther from the en¬ 
trance and, as we moved away, we saw a broad 
band of twilight shine on the stones of the 
floor, making a rectangular patch in the dark¬ 
ness. 

“Now’t is in my mind to have a look around,” 
we heard the soldier say. 

“How comes it you can go in there, but not 
into my warm kitchen? ’T is a damp place at 
best, with naught there but empty barrels and 
boxes.” Mrs. Brisket replied; but I could hear 
her voice tremble, and so, evidently, did the sol¬ 
dier. 

“If I mistake not, ma’am,” he said sternly, 
“there’s more down there than boxes and barrels, 

254 


THE MAJOR GOES A-HUNTING 

else would you not be so anxious to keep me out of 
it. I ’ll report this to the major.” 

He moved away, and I heard the murmur of 
Mrs. Brisket’s voice in protest, but could no longer 
catch the words. Val, beside me, picked up a 
heavy stick from the floor and whispered in my 
ear. 

“Now’s my chance,” he said. “I must be off.” 

“Hey, without there!” came a hail from the sol¬ 
dier. “Pass word to the major there is some¬ 
what wrong in the cellar here. I ’m keepin’ my 
eve on it. Make haste now.” 

a/ 

With a sinking heart, I realized that Val was 
not to get away so easily, and a moment later he 
was back at my side. 

“I set that stick to trip the first man down,” 
he chuckled; “but is there no other way out of 
this, Patty?” 

“None that I know of,” I answered. 

“Well, I sha’n’t be taken like a rat in a hole,” 
he said; “I ’ll make a fight for it.” And I heard 
him groping about for another club. 

Above our heads I could make out the dull thud 
of moving feet, and presently the voice of Major 
Tarlton in the garden outside. 

255 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“What ’s all this?” he called. 

“ ’T is but suspicion I have, sir,” the guard 
answered. “I thought I saw the door of this cel¬ 
lar closing down a while back; but I could not be 
sure, sir. Then this woman here, sir, she’s been 
that anxious to have me leave the place unguarded 
that she was willing to feed me; and knowing how 
she mislikes the color of my uniform, sir, I 
couldn’t help but think somewhat was wrong.” 

“ ’Pon my word, and that’s good reasoning, 
too!” Lord Fairbrook cried; and I knew that there 
were three at least to block Val’s way to freedom. 

“Nay, sir,” Mrs. Brisket protested, “if to have 
a generous feeling for a hungry man breeds sus¬ 
picion, I ’ll leave you to your own devices.” 

“Aye, you ’re right, Mrs. Brisket,” his lord- 
ship said. “ ’T is a thankless way of treating 
your kindness. Come, Tarlton, there’s naught 
there, and the place reeks of damp like to a tomb.” 

“All the same, I mean to take a look,” the major 
replied. “Fetch a lanthorn from the house,” he 
went on, evidently to the guard, and any thought 
I might have had that we should be left undis¬ 
turbed was abandoned. With a last hope that 
we might escape unobserved, we worked our way 

256 


THE MAJOR GOES A-HUNTING 

deeper into the cellar; but all too soon an ap¬ 
proaching shaft of yellow light came down 
through the opening, telling us that the search 
was about to begin in earnest. 

“Let me stand in front of you, Patty,” I heard 
Val mutter, as he thrust me back. 

But at the moment a faint sound came from be¬ 
hind us, and a dim light appeared far at the rear 
of the cellar. 

“Miss Patty!” I heard an excited whisper in 
the voice of Mrs. Brisket. Making no sound, we 
groped our way toward the place in all haste. 
Above us, the housekeeper leaned down, framed 
in a narrow opening which was, as we found 
later, a way for passing fire-wood from the cellar 
to the kitchen. But there were no steps to mount 
to her. Behind us were our enemies, stumbling, 
as they entered, over Val’s obstruction; but the 
cellar was large and the noise they made had pre¬ 
vented them from hearing us. 

“Confound that stick!” his lordship said peev¬ 
ishly. “I Ve broke my shin over it.” 

“Stand at the doorway,” Major Tarlton com¬ 
manded, and I knew that he had posted the guard 
to close the entrance. “Come on, Algernon.” 

257 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

“I tell you, I broke my shin,” his lordship 
urged. 

But for all that, the hunt had begun just as 
hope had dawned in my heart. I whispered up to 
Mrs. Brisket that we were directly beneath. 

“You can squeeze out this way,” she mur¬ 
mured, kneeling to give me a hand. “Climb up 
at once.” 

But she had no need to tell us. There was a 
great cask under the opening, and without more 
words, Val lifted me up on it. From there, 
grasping Mrs. Brisket’s outstretched hand, a short 
jump brought me out on the floor above, and the 
next moment I found myself in a small store-room 
abutting on the kitchen. It was out of this that 
the small trap-door opened, which, when closed, 
was hid with shelves so hinged that they might be 
swung easily into place, not for purposes of con¬ 
cealment, but for conveniency. A moment later 
Val was beside us and Mrs. Brisket softly closed 
the door. 

“It was our luck that they turned first to the 
right,” Val chuckled. 

“Take Master Val up to your room,” Mrs. 
Brisket warned me. “There is no one to stop 

258 


THE MAJOR GOES A-HUNTING 

you now, but in a few minutes they will all be 
back and then—” 

I did not wait to hear further what she had to 
say; but, slipping off my shoes and motioning 
Val to do the like, for I remembered that I had 
heard our enemies walking over our heads, I 
clutched him by the arm and hurried him upstairs, 
nor stopped an instant till he was safe behind the 
door of my room. 

“Stay here,” I whispered. “I’m going back 
to show Major Tarlton where I am.” 

“But see here, Patty, I want to get out,” he 
protested. 

“You can't!” I replied. “You are safer now 
than you were in the cellar, but till this alarm is 
over, you can’t get out.” 

I was so relieved at our escape that I was nigh 
hysterical, but I realized that Val was now in a 
situation where any attempt to get away was fore¬ 
doomed to failure, while at the same time the 
chances of his being discovered in my room were 
few. 

I ran down the stairs almost light-heartedly, 
and so greatly were my anxieties lessened that I 
greeted Major Tarlton coming up from the cellar 

259 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

with an innocent inquiry whether the rats, too, 
were suspected of whiggish leanings? Which 
was not, in truth, great wit, but pleased Lord 
Fairbrook vastly, so that he seconded me in rag¬ 
ging Major Tarlton, in revenge for his scant sym¬ 
pathy over that bruised shin. 


260 


CHAPTER XVIII 


WILKINSON BRINGS BAD NEWS 

S O far as I could determine, Major Tarlton har¬ 
bored no belief that the suspicions of the 
sentry had any foundation in fact. It appeared, 
simply, that the soldier was mistaken, and he took 
Lord Fairbrook’s chaffing and my own saucy re¬ 
marks with much good nature. Apparently the 
incident was closed, and I was somewhat put to it 
not to reveal the immense relief I felt over Val’s 
escape. 

In truth, the situation pleased me mightily. 
To my thinking, Val stood in much less danger 
while he remained in my room, than he did roam¬ 
ing about the city disguised as a Quaker. To be 
sure, there was always the possibility that the en¬ 
tire house might be searched, but this seemed so 
unlikely that I dismissed it from my mind. 

On the other hand, as the matter now stood, it 
would be so dangerous for Val to attempt to get 

261 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

away that this menace served as a protection 
against any such rash enterprise. Not only must 
he avoid the sentries, but he must also risk meet¬ 
ing one or both of the officers, who spent much of 
their time in the front room, the door of which al¬ 
ways stood open, so that none could pass through 
the lower hall without being seen. 

But upon the third floor we seemed safe enough. 
So far as our British guests knew, there were 
none but women up there. At my first oppor¬ 
tunity I went upstairs and moved some of my be¬ 
longings into Mrs. Brisket’s room, where there 
was a trundle-bed for me, while Val could take 
his comfort in mine and no one the wiser for his 
being there. 

At first we were somewhat worried about how 
we could serve his food, but here we found not 
the slightest difficulty. Sarah took up his meals 
while the officers were at theirs in the dining¬ 
room; and so long as no new suspicion was 
created, I had naught to fear. 

Also it pleased me infinitely that now I had one 
with whom I could talk over all the perplexing 
incidents that had befallen during these months I 
had been in Philadelphia. Val listened closely, 

262 


WILKINSON BRINGS BAD NEWS 


deeply interested, while I recounted all that had 
happened since I had left Springhill. At the first 
mention of E. P. U. he broke into my story. 

“But I have seen one of those missives myself!” 
he said. “While we were wondering what Sir 
William Howe was doing after he left the Dela¬ 
ware capes, along came a paper saying that the 
British fleet was sailing for Chesapeake Bay.” 

“And that was true,” I interrupted. 

“Aye, but our general, though I am sure he 
credited it, dared not run any risks, seeing the 
folly of Howe’s abandoning Burgoyne,” Val ex¬ 
plained. “So we stayed midway, where we could 
strike in either direction. The British never 
would have landed if we had dared trust that mes¬ 
sage absolutely.” 

“But does no one know who sends them, Val?” 
I questioned. 

“No one,” he answered, “and any talk about it 
has been discouraged in the army. We didn’t 
want the British to learn that such messages 

reached us.” 

“There’s plenty of talk about it here,” I told 
him. “Every one in the city is wondering who 
writes them—and I’m sure I know.” 

263 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


He laughed a little at my assurance. 

“You may laugh an you like,’’ I went on, “but 
remember, please, I have had messages from E. 
P. U. which were just for me and had naught to 
do with the war.” 

“That’s true, too,” he admitted. “Whom do 
you suspect, Patty?” 

“Uncle John!” I replied; and at that I saw his 
eyes widen in surprise. 

“And how did you arrive at that conclusion?” 
he demanded, whereat I told him of the red-headed 
boy and his opportune appearance outside Uncle 
John’s counting-house. “And who else is there, 
Val, who would have an interest in what I did? 
Of course, the warning to General Washington, 
which was left at Springhill, had naught in par¬ 
ticular to do with us; but of a surety the one 
telling me to come here was personal.” 

“Of that there’s no doubt,” he agreed. “But 
how could Uncle John have been aware that you 
were in the city, even?” 

“In the same way he knew that General Wash¬ 
ington was going to Philadelphia by the Gloucester 
road,” I replied. “Of course, I can’t even guess 
how he found out any of these things; but he 

264 


WILKINSON BRINGS BAD NEWS 


must have spies who report to him what is going 
on and—” 

“That’s all very well,” Val interrupted, “but 
why should n’t he tell you himself instead of send¬ 
ing you these messages ?” 

“Because he does n’t want even me to be in the 
secret/’ I explained. “That’s natural when you 
consider the risk he runs. I might betray him by 
just looking wise about it, though of course I 
should n’t mean to. I’ve wanted all this winter 
to talk to him, but I have n’t, because, if he wished 
to take me into his confidence, he would have told 
me himself.” 

“It’s quite possible,” Val said, after a thought¬ 
ful pause. 

“Moreover, Val,” I continued, “he seemed so 
sure of what E. P. U. stood for.” 

“What did he say it meant?” Val asked. 

“E pluribus unum,” I answered. 

“Out of many, one,” my brother translated. 

“Meaning, you see, that all the colonies would 
join together to make one great state.” 

“That’s what it means!” Val exclaimed. “The 
more I think of it, the more I am convinced that 
you ’re right about Uncle John.” 

265 


J A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

Then our talk changed to the mysterious cipher 
I had found in the Continental bill, in which Val 
was intensely interested. 

“I wish I had seen it,” he said again and again. 
“It’s unquestionably a code message of some sort. 
I make codes for our army, you know, and it ’s 
great fun puzzling out one you Ve never seen/’ 

“Major Tarlton made sure we could n’t read it,” 
I remarked. “He and Aunt Augusta both in¬ 
sisted upcm that. Also, they vowed that if we did 
read it, we should n’t be any wiser than we were 
before. ’T is very strange.” 

“And very important to the British, I should 
say,” Val commented musingly. “They would n’t 
go to all this trouble for a small thing.” 

“Aye, that ’s true too,” I replied; “but why, 
Val, should they make a prisoner of me, when 
Rosalie has taken it?” 

“Are you certain she has it?” he asked. 

“To be sure I am.” 

“And you think she isn’t telling the truth?” 

“How can she be?” I argued; “and although 
Major Tarlton said he believed her, I’m not satis¬ 
fied. Did I mention what they said when I in¬ 
sisted that Rosalie had it?” 

266 


WILKINSON BRINGS BAD NEWS 


“They? Who are ‘they’?” 

“Major Tarlton and Lord Fairbrook,” I ex¬ 
plained impatiently. 'The minute they heard that 
Rosalie had it, Lord Fairbrook said something 
about Aunt Augusta being a tricky old woman 
who was planning to keep the gold herself, and 
Major Tarlton agreed with him and spoke of it as 
a treasure. There is a hint of what the message 
is about, at all events.” 

“It may be,” Val assented. “I know not. It’s 
all passing strange. For my part, I ever liked 
Rosalie. We used to be fast friends. I saw her 
yesterday on the street.” 

“Oh, Val!” I exclaimed in instant alarm, “do 
you think she recognized you?” 

“Faith, no,” he returned with a laugh. “She 
was walking with a British officer and so vastly 
interested in him that I doubt she knew I was 
there, though to be sure she looked at me.” 

“I don’t trust her,” I insisted; “but she isn’t 
as bad as Aunt Augusta. She had the heart to 
come and tell me Father was safe. And that 
minds me—have you heard aught of him?” 

“Oh, yes, the Saucy Sally was cast away, but 
every one aboard was rescued,” Val answered. 

267 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“To my mind, Father had much to do with the 
French treaty. At all events, ’t is sure he stirred 
up Dr. Franklin to move in the matter. He ’s ex¬ 
pected back ere long.” 

“Oh, what would I not give to see him!” I mur¬ 
mured. 

Val and I had many such talks in the next few 
days. We went over and over the same subjects, 
speculating upon who E. P. U. could be, but al¬ 
ways coming to the conclusion that it might be 
Uncle John. 

It was my intention to interest Val as much as I 
could, for, although he realized that his chances 
for escape were not very bright, he chafed at his 
inactivity. His thoughts were ever on the subject 
of his freedom, and he hoped to hit upon some 
scheme whereby he might win to the street without 
an alarm being raised. He was confident that, 
once abroad, his Quaker disguise would serve him 
and that he could pass through the enemy lines 
without trouble. I pleaded with him not to con¬ 
sider so foolhardy an enterprise, but he shook his 
head, declaring he was determined to put all to 
the test ere long. He inquired minutely as to 
the habits of Major Tarlton and Lord Fairbrook, 

268 


WILKINSON BRINGS BAD NEWS 


and I was forced to tell him that there were times 
when neither was in the house; but I never failed 
to point out that the guards were always on duty 
and his chances of avoiding their observation ex¬ 
ceedingly scant. 

Yet he would not agree that it could not be done, 
and so I was never quite free from anxiety. 

Two days later, however, in the morning, I met 
Major Tarlton in the hall, and, with a smile, he 
told me I was no longer a prisoner. 

“Are you not glad?” he asked in a tone of sur¬ 
prise, for my face must have shown some of the 
alarm I felt on Val’s account, seeing that now he 
would most certainly attempt to rejoin our army. 

“Oh, to be sure I’m glad,” I replied, with as 
much enthusiasm as I could summon; “but why 
have you decided so suddenly that I am no longer 
worth keeping a prisoner? Have you so soon 
found what you sought?” 

“Nay, we haven’t found it, Miss Patty; so you 
need not look disappointed on that score,” he re¬ 
turned. “Doubtless you know that as well as I; 
but those in high places have decided that you 
can go free. I am rejoiced to be, for once, the 
bearer of good news.” 


269 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“It is good news, of course, and I thank you, 
Major Tarpon/’ I said. “I can go, then, where 
I like?” 

“Yes, without let or hindrance,” he assured me. 

“Then I shall take a walk for the sake of the 
air,” I told him, and ran upstairs for my hat. 

Jinny being busy, I set forth alone. It was in 
my mind not to tell Val that he need no longer 
fear the guards about the house. I wanted time 
to think. Who was there in authority among the 
British who would have any interest in my affairs ? 
Why had I been given my freedom before the ob¬ 
ject for the loss of which I had been made a pris¬ 
oner had been found? Was it a trap, laid in the 
hope that I might betray myself or lead them to 
what they so greatly desired? Perchance there 
was the explanation. 

Full of these tangled thoughts, I took my way 
into the streets, wishing to be alone so that I might 
puzzle the matter over. To be sure, there were 
many people about me, but I knew them not and 
thus could meditate undisturbed. 

Could Major Tarlton have an inkling of the 
truth that Val was hid within the house, yet, to 
save himself the possible humiliation of another 

270 


WILKINSON BRINGS BAD NEWS 


fruitless search, pretend to leave a way of escape 
in order to capture any one who tried for freedom ? 
That was all too probable, and yet I could scarce 
believe our British guests had any such suspi¬ 
cion. Nevertheless, great caution was necessary, 
and I made up my mind to point out to my brother 
all the dangers that might arise ere he attempted 
escape. 

Unconsciously, I took my way to the park about 
the new state-house; but came suddenly to a sense 
of my surroundings when some one addressed me. 

“I’s warrant I know what ye be lookin’ for, 
Missy,” said a voice close to me, and I became 
aware of a man beside me whose worn and 
wrinkled face was turned quizzically upon me. 
“Ye be searchin’ for the tree E. P. U. sets his 
messages on.” 

It was plain that in my rather aimless way of 
moving about I might have given the impression 
the man had seemingly gained and, not caring to 
discuss it with him, I nodded in agreement. 

“There T is,” he went on, pointing out a maple 
near by. “Every day I comes, lookin’ to have 
word of when we ’re to be rid of these redcoats. 
’T will be soon.” 


271 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“I hope so/’ I murmured. “But who is this 
E. P. U. ?” I said, wondering if the gossip of the 
city had hit upon a name. 

“That’s what every one is askm’,” he replied, 
“yet none know.” He gave me a sly look as if 
he meant me to think that he of all people in 
Philadelphia did know who this mysterious pa¬ 
triot was. 

I nodded again and passed on, setting my steps 
toward the market, thinking to see what might 
be purchased; for like many another household, 
we were limited in our supplies, and I hoped I 
might find for sale some spring greens to vary 
our diet. 

Suddenly, as I turned from a stall, I found my¬ 
self face to face with Wilkinson, our overseer at 
Springhill. It had been almost a year since I had 
seen him or heard how our dear home fared and 
I was about to cry out a welcome to him, but a 
certain look of anxiety, and an almost impercep¬ 
tible shake of his head, warned me not to address 
him openly. I passed on silently. A moment 
later he was a pace behind me and I heard him 
speak under his breath. 

“I must see you, Miss Patty. Can you meet 

272 


WILKINSON BRINGS BAD NEWS 


me at the spring in the Governor’s Woods this 
afternoon?” 

“Yes,” I answered, still looking straight ahead. 

He quickened his pace to pass me. 

“At what hour?” he asked. 

“Three o’clock,” I murmured, and he strode 
away. 

At the next corner I turned and made my way 
back to the house, pondering what this meeting 
with Wilkinson portended and doubtful of the 
wisdom of confiding it to my brother. If I told 
him I had met the steward, I should at the same 
time have to inform him that the guards had been 
removed, which as yet I was not willing he should 
know. I had, to be sure, no idea what Wilkinson 
had to tell me, so that I could see no gain in confid¬ 
ing in Val before I learned his news. 

When the appointed hour arrived, Jinny and 
I were nearing the spring in the Governor’s Wood, 
but, ere we came to it, Wilkinson appeared and we 
strolled under the new-leaved trees, safe from spy¬ 
ing eyes. 

“What is it, Wilkinson?” I asked. “Why are 
you here?” 

“They Ve taken Springhill, miss,” he answered. 

273 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“Who has taken it?” I demanded. 

“I thought’t was the British,” he began, “but 
it seems your aunt, Madam Roberts, is at the 
bottom of it. Three days agone an officer came 
with soldiers and seized the estate, saying it was 
the property of rebels and therefore forfeit to 
the king. But yesterday Madam Roberts rides 
over and says’t is hers. She vows it should have 
been hers from the beginning, talking somewhat 
about your grandfather's will, which I was too 
much outdone to understand; but there it is, Miss 
Patty. She’s kept all the blacks and brought 
one of her own people to serve as steward. Me 
she sent to the right-about, and so I came post¬ 
haste to tell you.” 

“But she has no right to Springhill, Wilkin¬ 
son!” I cried. 

“Aye, that I’m well assured of,” he answered, 
“but she has the British army to back her up. 
She ’s drawing her pay for being a Tory, Miss 
Patty.” 

“But we ’re going to drive the British out of 
America,” I declared. “We ’ll have Springhill 
back ere long!” 

“Aye, but can we drive them out, miss?” he 

274 


WILKINSON BRINGS BAD NEWS 


asked dolefully. “ ’T is ill news we have had.” 

“You ’ve only heard what the redcoats tell you,” 
1 explained. “We know better here. Our day 
will come.” 

“I hope so,” he answered fervently. 

“Tell me how you got into the city.” 

“ ’T is easy enough, miss, if one can row a boat 
and knows how lies the land,” he explained. 
“The Delaware is a long river, and’t is impossible 
to patrol the whole of it, to say naught of the 
marshes.” 

“Are you going to stay here?” I asked. 

“Nay, I’m going to find our army and see if 
they can’t make a place for an old man. I’m 
able to fight a bit yet, miss.” 

“Listen, Wilkinson,” I told him at this, “Mas¬ 
ter Val is here!” 

“In the city?” he demanded in surprise. 

“Aye, he ’s in hiding and I’m fearful of his 
being caught. Could you help him to get away?” 

“Easy, miss,” he replied confidently. “From 
these woods here I ’ll guarantee to guide him 
through the British lines so that none will lay 
eyes on him. A league or more south of here I’ve 
a boat hid in the reeds. I grew up as a boy 

275 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

in these parts and know the land like the palm of 
my hand. I ’ll take Master Val through, an you 
say the word.” 

“I cannot tell what day it will be, Wilkinson,” 
I replied, heartened by his absolute assurance, 
“nor shall you come to the house, with the Eng¬ 
lish officers occupying it, but if you will walk 
near the market every morning around the noon 
hour, I shall manage to let you know when you 
may expect him.” 

This arrangement made, after a little further 
talk I hurried away. The promise of Wilkin¬ 
son’s aid put me in a fever of hopefulness. Per¬ 
chance the very fact that Aunt Augusta had 
seized this opportunity to take Springhill away 
from Father had brought safety to Val, other¬ 
wise Wilkinson would never have come to Phila¬ 
delphia; and he seemed so certain of his ability 
to lead Val past the British lines that I took 
heart anew. 

’T is ever a matter of surprise to me how events 
shape themselves and how many times a mean ac¬ 
tion brings good fortune to its intended victims. 

I reached the house, far more encouraged than 
when I had gone out, and ran briskly up the 

276 


WILKINSON BRINGS BAD NEWS 


steps. Sarah Craig came to the door in answer 
to my knock and, as I entered, the sound of a 
child's voice issued from the room Major Tarl- 
ton had made his office. 

“Oh, Miss Patty," he called as I passed, “won't 
you come in and join our tea-party?" 

I had perforce to stop and step to the open 
door. Little Jane was seated at a small table 
upon which were two or three cups and saucers. 
Opposite her was Major Tarlton, and on his knee 
was the rag doll in which I had hidden the cipher 
message! 


277 


CHAPTER XIX 


A TEA-PARTY 

I CANNOT rightly set down the amazement 
I felt at seeing my rag doll seated on Major 
Tarlton’s knee. All other thoughts flew from my 
mind, and I must have stared blankly for the 
British officer broke out into hearty laughter. 

“ Ton my word, Mistress Patty,” he cried, 
“are you so astounded to And that a soldier can 
sometimes play at being a child? Aye, and en¬ 
joy it, too.” 

Luckily, he seemed so to have interpreted my 
surprise, and I gladly fostered his belief that this 
was indeed the cause of it. 

“ ’T is a strange sight, sir, to see a fierce major 
of dragoons playing at dolls with a little girl,” I 
said with a smile, doing my best to compose my¬ 
self. 

“Nay, Miss Patty, ’t is not so strange to find 
that even a major may be just a man, after all,” 

278 


A TEA-PARTY 


he replied. “Come and join our tea-party. I 
promise you ’t will be most decorous and enjoy¬ 
able, with no flighty Tory ladies to mar your pleas¬ 
ure. What say you, Jane,” he went on to the 
child, “shall we not insist that Mistress Patty 
grace our feast?” 

“Aye,” said Jane, firmly, as if she knew ex¬ 
actly what all this meant, “she must have her tea, 
seeing that she needeth it.” 

We laughed at that, I almost boisterously, for 
that I was somewhat wrought-up and glad of a 
chance to give vent to my feelings. My real de¬ 
sire was to seize the doll and rush away to dis¬ 
cover if the message was still where I had put 
it. I was consumed with curiosity as to how the 
rag baby had come into Major Tarlton’s hands, 
and most anxious to examine with Val the mys¬ 
terious paper to see if he could make head or tail 
of it. But before all this was the thought that it 
was brought there, most like, to test me in some 
way, and it behooved me to be on my guard. Such 
being the case, I was forced to bide my time; but 
I agreed with Jane that I did need my tea. So, 
with a fine air of gaiety, I took off my wraps and, 
handing them to Jinny, went into the room. 

279 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“An it pleaseth you, Lady Jane Craig/' I said 
in a stately manner, “I shall be vastly honored to 
join your party, and I trust you will find some 
goodies for us, for I am nigh starved." 

“I know not if we have them," Jane murmured 
wistfully, coming back to the realities, for, so far, 
as their party had been all pretense, there was 
naught to eat or drink upon the table. 

“Do you not think some could be found?" I sug¬ 
gested, with a nod to Sarah, who stood by. “And 
I like not cold tea, neither, so let us have some, 
fresh drawn and hot." 

Sarah took my meaning and went off to pre¬ 
pare a real tea-party, at which Miss Jane glowed 
with pleasure and took up the duties of hostess 
in earnest. 

“I trust, Miss Patty, that you have had a pleas¬ 
ant walk,” the major began, playing at the game 
quite formally. “We have missed her, have we 
not, Lady Jane?" 

“She is a giddy gadabout, ever on the go," Jane 
replied in her most grown-up manner. “I some¬ 
times wonder she doth not fall ill with her con¬ 
stant running hither and yon." 

280 


A TEA-PARTY 


“Ah, so you've noticed it too,” said the major. 
“What think you we should do about it, Lady 
Jane? We must put our heads together and 
take the matter in hand.” 

“She should be put to bed,” Jane declared, after 
giving the matter serious thought. 

“On bread and water,” the major remarked, 
with a meaning glance at me. 

“Nay, Jane would not play at aunt with me; 
would you, Jane?” I cried, trying to take this 
lightly, but all the while wondering at that doll 
sitting upon the major's knee. 

“No,” Jane responded seriously, “but when my 
child is naughty I put her to bed and do not give 
her aught to eat.” 

I hoped this reference might bring the rag baby 
into the conversation, but I was doomed to dis¬ 
appointment. Ere it was mentioned, Mrs. Craig 
came in with our tea and cakes, whereat Jane's 
excited comments put everything else out of her 
mind. 

We chatted foolishly and gaily as we ate, while 
Sarah waited upon us gravely and little Jane did 
the honors with due ceremony. 

281 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

But at length my time came, for Jane, suddenly 
glancing across the table to where Major Tarlton 
sat, bethought her of the doll. 

“Oh, but Barbary hath had naught,” she cried, 
quite distressed at her thoughtlessness, “and she 
hath been monstrous well behaved! Never did 
I see a quieter child, and she so empty.” 

“Now that is too bad!” said the major, con¬ 
tritely; “and it is all my fault. I was so hungry 
I forgot all about Barbary. I crave her par¬ 
don.” 

“She must have her tea,” Jane insisted. Sarah 
began a protest; but I was eager to keep this 
topic alive and sent her for another cup forth¬ 
with, although Jane’s words, “she is so empty,” 
had revived my fear that the whole tea-party was 
prearranged to try my metal. 

When the tea-cup was brought I suggested that 
perchance I could feed the doll better than a man, 
having more practice; but Major Tarlton would 
have none of that, insisting upon holding Bar¬ 
bary upon his knee and pretending to feed her be¬ 
tween bites. 

“Nay, Mistress Patty,” he said, “ ’t is the 
privilege of the gentlemen to wait upon the ladies, 

28 2 


A TEA-PARTY 


and I shall not relinquish any of my prerogatives. 5 ’ 

“And you do it very nicely/ 5 Jane commented 
seriously, with a nod of approbation in his di¬ 
rection. “But, an it please you do not spill the 
tea upon her dress. 55 

“I shall be careful, 55 the major promised, “but 
1 5 m sure Barbary is a very neat child. 55 

“ 5 T is because I have taught her how to behave 
herself, 55 Jane remarked. “She is very mannerly 
now, but I had a sad time with her till she 
learned. 55 

“She seems very hungry. I hope you are n’t 
starving her, Lady Jane, 55 the major suggested, 
with apparent concern. 

“To my mind, she did not have much to eat 
where she came from, 55 Jane returned; and my 
heart gave a jump. 

“Where did she come from, Jane? 55 I asked, as 
indifferently as I might. “I have never seen you 
play with her before. 55 

“Oh, I know, 55 Jane answered mysteriously; and 
I saw she had of a sudden resolved to be secretive 
about it; which was quite like a child, but none 
the less most annoying to me. Had we been 
alone, I should have asked her mother at once 

283 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

all about the doll, but I had no excuse to offer 
Major Tarlton for too great a curiosity. 

“Oh, very well,” I said, “it really does n’t make 
any difference where she came from so long as she 
is here and now is being well instructed.” 

“And yet the history of such an artful young 
person might be of rare interest,” the major re¬ 
marked to me; which again set me to wondering 
whether this was a chance observation or whether 
there was more behind it. 

“Its history is easily guessed,” I said. “Bar¬ 
bary came out of some one’s rag-bag.” 

“Nay,” Jane protested, “Barbary came not from 
any rag-bag. She ’s a very good dolly and greatly 
desirous of a slice of cake, although I have been 
at pains to teach her she must wait till she is 
asked.” 

“Your pardon, Barbary,” cried the major, as 
he held a bit of the cake to the doll’s mouth. 
“Faith, I knew not you were ready for your cake, 
not being sure you had swallowed your tea.” 

He was so serious that even little Jane saw the 
humor of it, and laughed merrily. 

“She doth not truly swallow it,” the child ex¬ 
plained. 


284 


A TEA-PARTY 

“Are you sure?” he demanded, still keeping his 
countenance. “She seems to relish it so vastly.” 

Jane looked at him a moment, seriously con¬ 
sidering whether or not he was quizzing her. 

“I’m quite sure,” she said at length, “at least 
I think I am.” 

The major kept a sober face; but I could n’t 
help a burst of laughter. 

“Oh, Lady Jane!” I said, “I don’t believe you 
know much about Barbary after all.” I was 
eager to keep to the subject of where the doll had 
come from and anxious to bring the conversa¬ 
tion back to that topic. 

“Aye, that I do,” she insisted positively; “and 
she used to be very naughty, but now she’s as 
good as gold.” 

“Any one could see that by looking at her,” 
Major Tarlton said gravely. “I don’t know when 
my eyes have been rejoiced by sight of such a 
sweet countenance. I’m sure she never gives 
you any trouble, Lady Jane.” 

“Only she does n’t favor going to bed, some¬ 
times,” Jane replied; and again they went wide 
of the mark I was aiming at. I could but join 
in, hoping against hope that a chance remark 

285 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

would lead back to the information I was so wish¬ 
ful to come by, yet never sure Major Tarlton was 
not wilfully turning the conversation to fit some 
hidden purpose of his own. 

“And why did you name her Barbary?” he 
asked a little later. 

“ ’Cause that’s her name,” Jane replied 
promptly. 

“Yes, to be sure,” he agreed; “but you might 
have called her Sally or Elizabeth or Penelope, 
you know.” 

“No, that I could n’t,” Jane protested. “I had 
to call her Barbary.” 

“Oh, I see,” said the major, nodding his head. 
“Of a surety, when you stop to look at her you do 
realize that her name must be Barbary.” 

“I don’t think it a very pretty name,” Jane con¬ 
fessed; “for choice, I should have called her Dul- 
cinea; but I could n’t, you see, ’cause Barbary 
gave her to me and she had to be her godmama.” 

Here was my chance and I seized it eagerly. 

“And who is the Barbary who gave you the 
dolly, Lady Jane?” I asked, with a fine air of 
making conversation. 


286 


A TEA-PARTY 

“She’s Barbary/’ Jane replied, a little puzzled. 
“Days she playeth with me in the Governor’s 
Woods. She liketh me well, and she was tired of 
the doll; so she gave it to me.” 

“Now there is generosity for you!” said the 
major, laughing, “when you have aught you do 
not want, give it to somebody you like.” 

“I never heard of this child before,” I said, 
thinking I might safely ignore the major’s re¬ 
mark. “Who is she, Sarah,” I ended, appealing 
to Mrs. Craig. 

“She’s the child of Mrs. McDonald’s niece, 
Miss Patty, the one I told you of.” 

And on the instant some of my anxiety rolled 
off of me, for I thought I saw how it had come 
about that my rag doll had been lost and now was 
found again. Mrs. McDonald had given it to 
the grand-niece she doted on, who, in turn, had 
presented it to Jane. That seemed plain enough; 
but was the message still where I left it? That 
was a question I was by no means so ready to 
answer. It might easily be that Rosalie, having 
taken out the bit of paper had turned the doll over 
to Mrs. McDonald. For an instant I was in 

287 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

danger of going into a brown study, forgetting 
where I was, when the major’s voice brought me 
back to the present company with a start. 

“I seem to remember having heard of a Mrs. 
McDonald somewhere/’ he said, looking at me a 
trifle sharply, I thought. 

To have denied all knowledge of the woman 
would have betrayed me at once, for I felt sure 
the major knew perfectly of whom he was speak¬ 
ing and, harboring some sudden suspicion, had a 
thought to trap me. 

“To be sure you Ve heard of her,” I said. 
“She’s housekeeper for my aunt, Madam 
Roberts.” 

“Oh yes, now I do remember,” he admitted, and 
then turned again to Jane. “So you play with 
little Barbary often in the Governor’s Woods?” 

“Sometimes,” corrected Jane. “We play at 
fairies or—” 

“And does this little Barbary, who lives with 
Madam Roberts, often give you things?” the 
major interrupted. There was something in his 
tone that brought a renewed fear into my mind. 
Could he have any knowledge of what had been 
hidden under the doll’s shabby covering? I 

288 


A TEA-PARTY 

thought it wise to be careful in what I said, for 
it was borne in upon me that the major harbored 
some suspicion. 

“Nay,” I heard Jane answer, “ ’cept dolly, she 
never gave me aught—save once a lump of sugar,” 
she added as an afterthought; “and I gave her a 
seed-cake, I did.” 

“Well,” said the major, returning to his ban¬ 
tering tone, “I think this little Barbary is a very 
nice present to have from anybody. But, Miss 
Patty,” he went on, turning to me, “are n’t you 
surprised to find that there is any connection be¬ 
tween this house and that of Madam Roberts?” 

“Nay, Sarah has told me of Mrs. McDonald’s 
niece before, Major Tarlton,” I answered, “al¬ 
though you are mistaken in thinking the child 
lives at my aunt’s.” 

“Oh, to be sure,” he said lightly; “but if there 
were any messages to be sent back and forth, no 
doubt Jane could bring them as well as another?” 
It was plain that some distrust had found lodg¬ 
ment in his mind. 

I was scarce sure of how I could best dissipate 
it, and yet I dared not take refuge in silence. 
“There are no messages coming or going between 

289 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

this house and that/’ I therefore said promptly. 
“You should know that, Major Tarlton. Aunt 
or no, I like her not.” 

“I have learned, Miss Patty, not to be too sure 
of what I know,” he replied; “but we must not 
forget our hostess. I’m vastly taken with this 
doll of yours, Lady Jane,” he went on pleasantly, 
and he dandled it on his knee as if it were a real 
baby. 

“Be careful not to hurt the child, sir,” Jane 
admonished, “babes have weak backs.” 

“She does n’t seem one who could be hurt 
easily,” the major replied; “but I shall be care¬ 
ful.” 

We had finished our tea by this time, and Mrs. 
Craig, to my delight, saw that it was time to 
bring the party to a close. 

“You must go now, Jane, and not bother the 
gentleman any more,” she said, helping her small 
daughter down from the great chair whence she 
had dispensed hospitality. 

“Must I, mummy?” Jane asked plaintively. 

“Aye, my dear,” Mrs. Craig replied; and there 
was no further protest, although it was plain to 

290 . 


A TEA-PARTY 

be seen that the child would have liked to stay 
longer. 

“We shall have another tea-party soon, Lady 
Jane,” said the major; “in the meantime, won’t 
you let me keep Barbary for company?” 

At last I was positive that the officer had some¬ 
thing in his mind that concerned the doll. It 
was as probable that he might know of the hidden 
message as that Rosalie should, and I had been 
ready enough to believe that in some way she 
had found the secret out. But what was to be 
done? I could not bear to think of letting him 
keep the doll, nor could I see any way of prevent¬ 
ing him were he so minded. Moreover, to make a 
protest would surely confirm his suspicions. My 
only hope lay in Jane, and there I was none too 
sanguine for, an Major Tarlton meant to keep 
the plaything, the child’s tears would scarce alter 
his mind. 

Jane, not understanding, held out her hands 
for her Barbary, and I waited, a-tremble, to see 
what would be the outcome, knowing well that 
I could do naught to help. Rather was I certain 
that any urging on my part, in Jane’s behalf, 

291 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

would have an effect opposite to what I desired. 

“Won’t you let her stay with me just a little 
while, Lady Jane,” the major pleaded. “Faith, 
1 ’ve taken a rare fancy to your daughter.” 

“No!” said little Jane, positively, “Barbary 
would be lonely. I want my dolly.” 

“But I shall be lonesome, too, all alone when 
you ’re gone,” the major persisted. 

“Miss Patty can stay with you,” Jane returned, 
still holding out her hands. 

“But I don’t think she will,” the major said. 
“You see, she does n’t like the uniform I wear, 
Jane, and nothing I can do will make her change 
her tastes.” 

“Mayhap you might change your coat, sir,” I 
could n’t help cutting in. 

“Not my uniform, Miss Patty. An I did, I 
hardly think I should win your respect,” the major 
rejoined lightly. “But perchance you can help me 
to persuade Jane to let me keep her doll for a 
while?” 

Was it a trap? I knew not; but I could do no 
less than add my voice to his pleadings. 

“Come, Jane, you ’ll let the major have Bar¬ 
bary,” I said, with as much persuasion in my tone 

292 


A TEA-PARTY 

as I could muster. “He will take good care of 
her, I hn sure.” 

“Do you think he will?” asked the child, and 
my heart misgave me. 

“I’m sure of it,” I was forced to reply, and 
I thought all lost. 

“No!” declared Jane suddenly and with a posi¬ 
tiveness that gave me hope. “No, I want Bar¬ 
bary myself.” And looking from me to the 
major, who still held her treasure, her face fell 
and I saw the first signs of tears. 

So also did the major and for a moment he 
hesitated; then with a bow, he handed the forlorn 
doll to its mistress. 

“I should give up anything rather than make 
you cry,” he said, and Jane took Barbary and 
hugged her tightly. It was all I could do neither 
to shout for joy nor to look overpleased. 

Jane and Sarah went out of the room and I rose 
to go also, but took care not to show any haste. 

“Miss Patty,” the major said gallantly, “I 
think I Ve spent the pleasantest hour I have 
known since I came to the Americas.” 

“I’m glad of that, sir,” I answered, “I too en¬ 
joyed Lady Jane’s tea-party.” 

293 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“It is pleasant to forget politics now and then,” 
he went on. “It was almost as if we had been 
friends instead of enemies.” 

“Mayhap that was because we had two guests 
at the table who knew naught of politics,” I sug¬ 
gested. 

He did not speak for a moment, then, giving me 
a side-long glance, he said: 

“Is it not vastly curious that Barbary should 
have come here from Madam Robert’s house¬ 
hold?” 

“That it is,” I replied frankly, for I too thought 
it curious. Then, hoping I had disarmed sus¬ 
picion, I curtsied and left the room. 


294 


CHAPTER XX 

/ 

FROM A TO Z 

I T was now my task to secure immediate pos¬ 
session of my old rag doll from Jane; but 
there I anticipated little trouble. The child’s 
mother would persuade her, and at worst I had 
only to wait until she went to bed that night; 
but I was too impatient to rest easy until then and 
went straight to the kitchen. 

“Sarah,” I whispered, “I must have that doll. 
’T was mine before Barbarv had it. Some one 
took it from my portmantle while I was at my 
Aunt Augusta’s.” 

Sarah opened wide her eyes in astonishment. 
“Land, miss! what are you telling me? I can 
scarce believe it,” she murmured. “To be sure 
ye shall have it at once.” 

“Nay, but wait,” I warned her. “I have no 
wish that Major Tarlton should learn that I am 
anxious because of it. It must be got from Jane 

295 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

with caution, else will she talk of the matter.” 

“I can manage that, miss,” Sarah answered, 
and forthwith went to find her small daughter. 

“ ’T is time the dolly went to bed, Jane,” she 
said. “With all that tea and cake, she’s 
sleepy, I know.” 

Perchance her own childish experiences had 
taught Jane that this indeed was the usual re¬ 
sult of over much feasting, and her heart went 
out to her dolly. 

“Yes, Barbary’s very, very sleepy,” she said, 
and, at the thought, yawned broadly herself. 

“Come, we ’ll put her to bed,” suggested Sarah; 
and the child, willingly enough, went away with 
her mother to their little room above stairs. 

I waited with what patience I might, listening 
to Mrs. Brisket’s complainings about the meager 
fare we were forced to put up with during the 
state of scarcity in which the city found itself; 
but presently Sarah and Jane returned, and I 
knew my doll was safe upstairs. 

I stayed a moment longer, so that no suspicion 
might be created in Jane’s mind, and then went 
above stairs at a leisurely pace until I reached 
the third floor, where, seeing that concealment 

296 


FROM A TO Z 

was no longer necessary, I flew to Sarah’s quar¬ 
ters, seized upon the rag baby, and hastened into 
my own room, where Val sat reading. 

“Look,” I cried holding it up. “I’ve found 
the doll!” 

For a moment he failed to catch the reason for 
my excitement, then, remembering, he gave an 
exclamation of surprise. 

“But have you found the message?” he asked 
eagerly. 

“That I know not,” I answered, rummaging 
in my work-box in search of my embroidery scis¬ 
sors. “We shall see in a minute.” And I set 
to work to rip the seam in the doll’s side. 

I did it with extreme care, for I wished to sew 
it together again so that none could discover that 
it had been tampered with, and, while I worked, 
I told Val how the doll had come again into my 
possession. 

“ ’T is passing strange,” he murmured. “It 
seems impossible to believe that any one could 
divine that you had put the paper there, and 
yet—” 

“They didn’t, Val,” I exclaimed, delightedly; 
“’t is here!” for in my ripping I had opened 

297 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


enough of the cloth to see one corner of the paper 
lying where I had thrust it. A moment later the 
whole was out and I handed the slip to Val. 



He examined it eagerly, holding the transparent 
paper against the mahogany dresser, so that the 
pin-pricks showed more plainly, and here I in¬ 
close a tracing of it, to show that I was not so 
stupid as it would seem I was in being unable 
to solve this mystery. 

“Can you make aught of it, Val?” I asked peer¬ 
ing over his shoulder. 

He shook his head, evidently puzzled. “To be 
sure,” he said, after a moment, “some things 
there are to go on. For instance, we might be¬ 
gin by taking each pin-prick to be a letter.” 

“Oh, I thought of that myself,” I replied con¬ 
fidently. 

“But are you so sure they are n’t numbers,” he 
returned with a smile. “They might be, you know, 

298 






FROM A TO Z 


and each number might stand for a letter in the 
alphabet. Many ciphers are written that way.” 

“Of course, they might be numbers,” I was 
forced to admit. 

“Then, too, you see, all are not pin-pricks,” he 
resumed. “Without doubt, the penciled lines be¬ 
tween mean something.” 

“I guessed they would show the separation of 
the words,” I suggested, not so sure of myself as 
I had been. 

“Perchance,” he agreed; “but we can’t be cer¬ 
tain they are not intended to indicate different 
pages in some book that was selected by those 
who made the code. Thus each dot may mean a 
certain word on a page—that’s sometimes done. 
But this message is far from ordinary, and I fear 
we shall have a hard time to make it out.” 

“Then there are those horizontal lines at the 
beginning, Val,” I said, pointing them out to him. 
“What think you they mean?” 

“I have n’t the least idea,” he returned. “Why 
are they only there and not anywhere else ? And 
the dots too are queer. There is no one directly 
under another, yet are there some side by side.” 

“Perchance we are n’t holding it the right way,” 

299 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


I said. “If you turn it around, so, the dots 
come under each other in some places.” 

“That ’s true,” he replied, twisting the bit of 
paper. “Mayhap it should be read so, and the 
two short lines indicate the top. I know not.” 

Val grew quite absorbed in his study of the 
paper, but I, of less patience and seeing no ex¬ 
planation of it at hand, bethought me of Barbary 
and went back to my chair to put her in order 
again. At the end of ten minutes or more she 
was as good as ever, and none, without the most 
careful examination, could have guessed that she 
had been so tampered with. I took the doll back 
to Sarah’s room and laid her on the bed, feeling 
sure that Jane would be none the wiser, nor would 
a mere man like Major Tarlton, should he be 
minded to make any further inquiries. 

Upon my return to Val I found him no farther 
along toward discovering the riddle of the cipher, 
but so intent upon it was he, that I thought it 
best not to interrupt him yet with my news of 
meeting Wilkinson. 

The next morning, it being Sunday, I went with 
Mrs. Brisket to Christ Church and heard the 
rector, Mr. Duche, preach a sermon which fitted 

300 


FROM A TO Z 


ill with my temper, it being all for the king, so 
that I resolved never again to go there while he 
was parson. But, aside from that, I enjoyed the 
service and came away humming to myself the 
last hymn we had sung. 

I went straight to Val, curious to learn if he 
had discovered anything in my absence, but he 
shook his head in answer to my question. 

“The thing has me stumped,” he answered 
crossly. “I thought by this time it would be plain 
enough; but to tell you the truth, Patty, I’m too 
thick-witted. I may as well give it up.” 

He had the missive spread upon a piece of 
parchment upon which lines had been ruled, and as 
I looked, I noted that these lines showed through 
the paper of the message almost as if it were not 
there, so transparent was the bit of tissue. Lean¬ 
ing over Val’s shoulder, I studied the pin-pricks, 
but, as before, could make naught of them, and, 
my attention wandering, the hymn I had been 
humming popped into my head again. 

Whether it was this or some sudden aspect of 
the lines and dots that took my eye, I cannot say; 
but as I looked, the thought came to me that in 
a way the arrangement of these marks suggested 

301 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


music, the upright lines appeared like bars and 
the dots like notes on the staff. 

“Val,” I said, “it makes me think of music. I 
don't know why, but it does.” 

He said naught, but peered at it again closely, 
then shook his head in doubt. 

“What mean you?” he asked at last. 

“I scarce know myself,” I replied, “but an there 
were lines drawn like those in music, those pin¬ 
pricks might—” 

He interrupted me, jumping to his feet quite 
excitedly. 

“Patty, I vow thou hast hit upon it!” he cried. 
“Wait but a minute, and pray interrupt me not.” 
He began to walk quickly up and down the room, 
his brow furrowed into a scowl, as he pondered 
over this suggestion I had made. Suddenly he 
stopped in front of me. 

“Is there a hymn-book in the house, one with 
the music writ out?’’ he asked. 

“There are several in the library,” I answered. 
“Shall I fetch them?” 

“Yes, bring them all,” he said feverishly, and I 
went off to do his bidding. 

Luckily, our officers were away, so that I had 

302 


FROM A to Z 


no trouble in bringing what I was sent for, and 
presently was back again in the room with three 
hymn books in my hands. Val took them eagerly 
and, opening one at random, placed the strip of 
transparent paper over a staff of the music, and I 
heard him give an “Ah!” of satisfaction. 

“What is it, Val?” I questioned, leaning over 
him to look. 

“Don’t you see, Patty,” he said, “those two 
little horizontal lines on the left are guides. The 
top one fits the top of the treble clef; and the other, 
the lower line of the base clef. Now you notice 
that all the pin pricks are either on the lines or 
in the spaces. Here we have something to go on 
with.” 

“Oh yes, we have the letters of the scale to go 
on A to G!” I exclaimed, all a-tremble with ex¬ 
citement. 

“Mayhap,” he agreed. “Let’s see. E, A, A, 
C.” He spelled out the first word thus and shook 
his head. “That won’t do.” 

“Try the next one,” I suggested. 

“F, D, D, D, G, A,” spelled Val, and again 
shook his head. “ ’T is a false scent. We 
have n’t discovered it yet, Patty.” 

303 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

“But what else can it be?” I asked, puzzled and 
disappointed. 

“Oh, there are lots of things to try now,” he 
declared, by no means discouraged. “It may be 
that the spaces and lines are numerals, and each 
number a letter in the alphabet. Let’s see.” 

For some time he worked over the numbers, be¬ 
ginning first at the top line and finding nothing 
there to make sense, starting again at the bot¬ 
tom. But once more he shook his head. 

“No, Patty, it is n’t as easy as I had hoped,” he 
said. 

“But you ’re not going to give up, Val,” I pro¬ 
tested. 

“Faith, that I’m not,” he answered heartily. 
“I’ve but begun to work. It would be too soon 
to own discouragement. Suppose we letter the 
lines and spaces, beginning below the staff. 
Where will that bring us?” 

Presently he spelled out H, K, K, F. 

“That gives us no word,” said Val, “let’s try 
beginning at the top and calling that ledger line 
A.” 

Once more he lettered the staff and tried again. 

“R, O, O, T,” he called, as his pencil ticked off 

304 


FROM A TO Z 


the lines and spaces. “Ah ha, Patty, that’s 
something. Root, a word at last.” 

“But it does n't mean anything,” I returned. 
“At least, nothing that could be of service to the 
British army.” 

“I don't know about that,” he said. “Take a 
pencil and put down the letters I call off to you/’ 

I did as he bade me, and he went to the next 
division on the transparent paper. 

“C, E, L, L, A, R,” he read off, and I put it 
down. 

“Why, that’s cellar!” I exclaimed as I wrote. 

“Yes, and it goes with root!” he cried tri¬ 
umphantly. “ ‘Root-cellar!’ That’s understand¬ 
able, is it not?” 

“I suppose it is,” I replied; “but it doesn’t 
make much sense to me yet.” 

“Go on,” he commanded, taking up the next 
space. “H, O, U, S, E, house. Got that?” 

“Yes,” I answered nodding, and wrote at his 
dictation, “P, E, T, E, R, S, M, I, T, H.” 

“ ‘House Peter Smith.’ That’s all of it,” Val 
ended triumphantly. “Now we know what it 
means—‘Root-cellar. House Peter Smith.’ ” 

“Oh,” I murmured, in a tone of deep disgust. 

305 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“All that trouble for naught. Who cares for 
Peter Smith’s root-cellar.” 

“It might be a good place to hide a treasure, my 
sweet child,” Val remarked slowly, and at that a 
great light broke upon me. 

“To be sure!” I exclaimed. “’T is exactly 
what it is. There ’s the gold Major Tarlton and 
Lord Fairbrook were talking about. Oh, Val, it 
is something after all!” 

“Thou art right, Patty; it is something, and 
’t is a pretty good treasure too, or there would n’t 
have been all this pother over it.” 

“But,” I said, my spirits going down with a 
thump, “where then is the root-cellar of Peter 
Smith? The message does n’t say.” 

“No,” agreed Val, “it does n’t, and Mr. Peter 
Smith may live in Philadelphia, or New York or 
Boston—” 

“Or Trenton!” I burst out. “Remember the 
message from E. P. U. that seemed so senseless. 
'What you seek will be found at Trenton in the 
Jerseys.’ That’s it, Val; Peter Smith lives in 
Trenton, and in his root-cellar a treasure lies 
buried!” 

“’Pon my word, that’s it!” Val exclaimed; 

306 


FROM A TO Z 


'‘and I can make a good guess as to how it got 
there. You see, Patty, when our army captured 
Trenton last Christmas, there was scant time for 
the Hessians to slip out of the way. We took 
most of them prisoners. Now it requires a lot 
of hard money to keep an army going, especially 
mercenaries like those, who fight for cash. Gold 
is needed to pay such men and buy supplies and 
all that, so when his Excellency walked in on them, 
the paymaster, being sure that he would be seized, 
hid their store of hard money in Peter Smith's 
root-cellar.” 

"And then was taken prisoner and could n’t 
tell the British where he’d hidden it!” I put in 
excitedly. 

"Exactly,” Val agreed. 

"But some people were aware that he had hid¬ 
den a treasure,” I went on. "Aunt Augusta 
knew and Major Tarlton—” 

"Doubtless a lot of the Tories were in the secret. 
At least, they knew they would have heard of it 
had our army captured so rich a prize,” Val ex¬ 
plained. "The man who hid it, wherever he was, 
did n’t dare to write word to them plainly, so he 
used this cipher code. And evidently, when you 

307 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

found it, Major Tarlton was taking it into New 
York to have it translated.” 

“It ’s all clear, even why they thought the mes¬ 
sage useless to us, as it would have been without 
E. P. U.’s aid. But, Val, how comes E. P. .U. to 
know of it and—and—” 

“I confess,” said Val, “that I’m in the dark 
about that. E. P. U. must have known you had 
the message, so he can’t be Uncle John, you see, 
because assuredly he would have asked for it had 
he thought it was in your hands. I give it up.” 

“ ’T is vastly mysterious, Val,” I murmured; 
“and even now I know not what to do.” 

“I do,” said Val, positively. “The American 
Army needs gold above all else, and I’m going to 
find Peter Smith’s root-cellar before many days 
are out. An I fail to get beyond the city, it will 
be for you to try to place this message at the 
service of our commander.” 

“Oh, but Val—” 

“There are n’t any oh’s about this, Patty, nor 
any buts, either,” he answered. “I’m going to 
Trenton!” 


308 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE CLASH OF SWORDS 

N OW that we knew that a store of gold was 
hid in Trenton, there was no holding Val. 
And although I dreaded the moment when he 
should make the attempt to pass through the Brit¬ 
ish lines, I could not in good conscience hold him 
back when he could be so serviceable to the 
patriot cause. 

But I was not minded to have Val go without 
doing all things possible to ensure his safety. In 
Wilkinson’s help I felt a certain confidence. He 
knew the country and was familiar with all the 
little paths through the woods leading out of the 
city toward the south. Yet it would not be a 
simple matter to bring the two together in the 
Governor’s Woods unobserved. Once upon the 
street, Val in his broad-brimmed hat and sad ap¬ 
parel would not attract attention; but should a 
strange Quaker, who had not been seen to enter, 

309 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


be observed leaving our house, I was by no means 
sure he would pass unnoticed. 

However, I now told Val of Wilkinson's pres¬ 
ence in the city and the news he had brought me 
about Springhill. 

“Ah, she’s at her old tricks!” Val muttered, re¬ 
ferring to Aunt Augusta. “Always was she en¬ 
vious of our estate in the Jerseys, and now 
sees the way to secure it at no cost. She thinks 
to have put the British under an obligation by 
her Tory activities, and this is to be her reward. 
Well, ’t will be seen if she can keep it. But what 
of Wilkinson? How came he to enter the city 
so easily?" 

I told him, and he jumped at the opportunity 
to take advantage of our steward’s knowledge 
of the country and, more important even, of his 
boat hidden on the river-bank. 

“I’m as good as on my way!" Val cried. 
“With a sack full of gold, I’m thinking my re¬ 
turn will be more than usual welcome at head¬ 
quarters." 

“But, Val, ’t is impossible to go now," I re¬ 
minded him. “I must first find Wilkinson and 
arrange a meeting." 


310 


THE CLASH OF SWORDS 


“Well, tell him I ’ll meet him in the Governor’s 
Woods at four o’clock this afternoon,” he said, 
a little excitedly. “I want to be out of this house 
and feel that I am on my way.” 

“But we don’t know how Wilkinson has fared,” 
I suggested. “They may even have seized him.” 

“Not likely,” Val laughed. “Wilkinson is an 
old fox, who can take care of himself. Besides, 
who knows him in Philadelphia?” 

“Aunt Augusta knows him,” I returned, “and 
if she, or any of the Roberts, for that matter, 
should happen to clap eyes on him, Wilkinson 
would scarce be at liberty an hour thereafter.” 

“Aye, that’s true too,” Val admitted. 

“We can’t run any unnecessary risk,” I went 
on, bent upon following up the impression I had 
made; “it’s too important to our army to have 
you win through safely. A day’s delay would 
matter much less than your capture.” 

Reluctantly he admitted that I was right and 
promised to make no attempt to escape until all 
had been arranged with Wilkinson. With this 
agreed on, I went forth to see if I could come 
upon our steward. 

I was none too certain of meeting him that day. 

3ii 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

There had been no arrangement beyond the one 
that he was to be at the market every morning, 
and, as I said to Val, we could not be positive 
that he was still at liberty; but I went onward, 
walking with as indifferent a manner as I could 
assume, trying to give the impression that I was 
but out for the air and had no particular ob¬ 
ject in view. 

There were many on the streets, and I saw my 
cousin Rosalie coming toward me in company 
with another lady and a British officer, and mighty 
fine and fashionable she appeared. But I turned 
off at a corner to avoid her, not liking the em¬ 
barrassment that might come of a meeting. I 
wandered through the market, but without sight 
of him I sought, and then turned to retrace my 
steps. A moment later he appeared, coming to¬ 
ward me, and I guessed that he had seen me and 
followed. It was of course desirable that none 
should know that he and I were aught but stran¬ 
gers, and I puzzled my head to discover a means 
whereby I might give him my message without 
betraying an acquaintance with him. 

When he was about ten paces away I dropped 
my handkerchief, walking on as if I did not know 

312 


THE CLASH OF SWORDS 


oi the mischance, and Wilkinson, stepping for¬ 
ward quickly, stopped and pointed. 

“Excuse me, miss,” he said loudly, so that any 
might hear, “you dropped yon handkerchief.” 

“Oh,” I replied in feigned surprise, and halted. 
He went to where the white bit of linen lay and 
returned, holding it out to me. 

“This afternoon in the Governor’s Woods,” I 
whispered; and he nodded understandingly. 
“ ’T is for Master Val.” And I added, “Thank 
you,” with my voice raised. 

He went off, touching his hat respectfully, and 
I continued on my way, satisfied that, an the in¬ 
cident had been noted, it would be scarce likely 
to arouse suspicion. 

I was at some pains not to hasten back to the 
house, continuing to walk about as if taking the 
air, and not till a considerable time after my 
meeting with Wilkinson did I think it wise to re¬ 
turn. Once within, however, I hurried to Val 
and told him what I had done. 

“So far, so good, Patty,” he said, delighted as 
a child. 

“But oh, Val,” I cried, suddenly overwhelmed 
with alarm for him, “suppose thou art taken! I 

313 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


should never forgive myself for letting thee go.” 

“Couldst not help thyself, Patty,” he answered 
boyishly. “I should have gone anyhow. Be¬ 
sides, what is there to fear?” 

“They might see you were n’t a Quaker,” I 
said. “You don't look much like one.” 

“But once I’m in the Governor’s Woods, I 
sha’n’t see anybody save Wilkinson,” he argued. 

“You have first to get to the Governor’s 
Woods,” I reminded him. “It is your trip there 
from here that I shall be most anxious 
about.” 

There remained only to provide him with a 
good meal against his going, for it might easily 
be that he would pass many hours thereafter with¬ 
out food ere he won through the British lines, 
and I would have him well fortified against his 
journey. 

To that end I went down to consult with Mrs. 
Brisket, and while busy in the kitchen I chanced 
to glance out of the window into the garden. To 
my great astonishment, I saw the little red-headed 
dumb boy running swiftly toward the house, evi¬ 
dently having climbed the wall, and I went to the 
door and opened it just as he reached it. 

314 


THE CLASH OF SWORDS 


He entered rather breathlessly and, with a 
smile of greeting, he fumbled inside his coat and 
brought forth a letter which he handed to me. 
There was no address upon it, and for a moment 
I hesitated about opening it; but a nod from the 
boy, who regarded me with sparkling eyes, 
seemed to answer my unasked question, and forth¬ 
with I broke the seal. 

The writing was unfamiliar and, glancing at 
the bottom of the page, I was amazed to see the 
name that was signed there. 

Dear Patty: I dare not explain, and beg your trust 
of me, knowing you think that I deserve it not ; but 
I implore you, dear Patty, do as I ask, for’t is a mat¬ 
ter upon which hangs life or death. To-day, at half 
past the hour of three, a coach will draw up before 
your house and I shall descend from it and enter. I 
ask you to be ready at the moment to take my place 
in the coach; and in order that the deception may be 
complete, you must put up your hair and wear the 
paduasoy that is like to mine—the one we chose to¬ 
gether in those few happy days when we were friends. 
The coachman is ordered to drive you out of the city 
past the Governor’s Woods, through the British lines 
at the Middle Ferry, and so across the river as far 
as you care to go. Once beyond the lines., you may 
order him to return, or he will drive you wherever 

315 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


you direct. I know not if you would like to leave 
the city, but, an you would, here is your opportunity ; 
for I shall have with me a pass permitting you every 
liberty. One other thing. Will you lay out for me 
a plain gown of your own, so that for a time I may 
play at being Patty Abbott. I would that I could tell 
you more, but it is impossible. This much that I 
have writ would place me in jeopardy were it to be 
read by hostile eyes. I pray you, do as I ask, fearing 
naught for yourself. Oh, Patty dear, think not over 
long nor seek the reasons for my request; but in re¬ 
membrance of those days when I am sure you loved 
me, let your heart be your guide, and so save your¬ 
self future years of regret and sorrow. 

Rosalie 

I read the letter twice, in profound amazement, 
not knowing what to believe. And yet so sincere 
did the words seem, so like a plea from the heart, 
that the old love I had felt for my cousin revived, 
and my first inclination was to do as she asked. 
Then, too, I owed her consideration for giving me 
news of Father; and lastly it seemed that here was 
the answer to my fears for Val’s safety. He 
could “join me somewhere and ride with me 
through the British lines.” 

I went upstairs in a maze of uncertainty and 
enthusiasm. 


316 


THE CLASH OF SWORDS 


“Look at this, Val,” I cried, holding the letter 
out to him. “What make you of it?” 

He glanced through it and I saw him shake his 
head once or twice in perplexity; then he went 
over it again, as I had, but without a word of 
comment until he had finished a second reading. 

“ ’T is an honest letter, Patty/' he declared 
finally. “I scarce can believe that Rosalie would 
set a trap for you.” 

“There would be no object in that,” I returned. 
“I’m sure Rosalie means me no harm; but what ’s 
behind it all, Val?” 

“That I cannot fathom,” he confessed. “It 
may be that for some reason she wishes you out 
of the city or thinks you would like to leave. 
That is in your discretion; but there is the pass—” 
He stopped, pondering deeply. 

“You can use that, Val,” I hurried to explain. 
“You need not run the risk with Wilkinson. 
Moreover, it will save much time.” 

“You mean if I go in the carriage with you?” 
he returned. 

“Exactly,” I replied. “It would be both safer 
and quicker.” 

“No, I dare not risk that,” he said, shaking his 

317 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


head emphatically. “A coach is a thought too 
conspicuous. Moreover, the pass, most like, will 
be writ for one lady, and it is not only myself that 
I must think of. There ’s the gold in Trenton. 
But we can find another use for that safe con¬ 
duct. You shall go out by it.” 

“What mean you by that ?” I asked. 

“Two strings to a bow are better than one, 
Patty,” he answered. “I have no doubt that I 
shall win through to safety, but I may be delayed, 
and, yes, we must face the possibility that I might 
even be taken. In that case, there would be no 
one to carry the message to our army; but now, 
with this pass, you can go through in perfect 
safety, and ten miles from the city you will find 
patriots a-plenty who will carry your message to 
headquarters. That is the best plan in every 
way.” 

“But, Val, we can meet and you can at least 
ride to the Governor’s Woods with me.” 

“Yes,” he replied slowly, “I think that would be 
a good idea. The coach is to come at half past 
three, which will give me plenty of time to meet 
Wilkinson at four. Yes, that will do very 
well.” 



THE CLASH OF SWORDS 


“And then I am to go on and send word to the 
army about the money in Trenton/’ I said. 

“That’s it exactly,” he nodded. “When you 
are once across the river, go straight to the house 
of David Llewellyn in Merion. He ’s well dis¬ 
posed to the cause and will find means to forward 
your message.” 

I repeated the Welsh name to make sure I 
should not forget it, and then we talked further 
over our plans, trying to find a flaw in them. 

And of a sudden I laid a finger upon one. 

“Val,” I exclaimed, “Rosalie would scarce be 
riding in a coach with a Quaker!” 

“Now that’s true, too,” he agreed. “I never 
thought of that. She ’s too well known among 
the British officers to pass thus attended and no 
remark made upon it. ’T would but draw atten¬ 
tion to you. Nay, I cannot go with you.” 

“Wait, I’m not so sure of that,” I replied. “A 
cloak and a hat would suffice to make you look 
like a British officer.” 

“Yes,” he agreed, “yes, an I had them—and a 
sword.” 

“All of those things are to be come by in this 
house,” I returned. He looked at me a moment 

319 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

or two without speaking, evidently weighing the 
suggestion in his mind. 

“It might be done/’ he said at length. “Is 
Lord Fairbrook within?” 

“He may be now, but will he be there at the 
time we ’re leaving? That is the question. I can 
learn at dinner and tell you afterward.” 

So the matter was left for the time being. We 
planned, an it proved impossible for Val to ob¬ 
tain the apparel he needed, we should hold to our 
original idea of his going by way of the garden 
wall as a Quaker, while I drove alone in Rosalie’s 
coach; but at dinner that day, which had been set 
for one o’clock of late, to fit a whim of my uncle’s, 
I was glad to learn that both Major Tarlton and 
his lordship were to spend the afternoon away 
from the house, and, though they said not where 
they were going, there was much talk of the Chews 
and the gathering of Tories always to be found 
there. 

This news pleased me mightily, and I was in 
such good spirits that both gentlemen remarked 
upon it, rallying me a little and demanding to 
know the cause. 

“Have you heard that Mr. Washington is to 

320 


THE CLASH OF SWORDS 

capture the city?” asked Major Tarlton with a 
smile. 

“Nay, but I would that I had,” I answered. 

“Now I vow that’s too bad!” his lordship 
mourned. “To hear you, Miss Patty, one would 
think you wished to be rid of your guests.” 

“I should miss them sore were they upon any 
other service,” I replied with a smile. 

“Egad! That’s prettily put!” cried the major. 
“And we cannot expect more, Miss Patty. But 
haply we shall be moving shortly—to what end, 
who can tell?” 

“Whatever comes,” exclaimed Lord Fairbrook, 
“you shall have a friend at court, Miss Patty! 
When we’ve beaten you and they proceed to try 
all these fierce rebel ladies, Tarlton and I will be 
on hand to save you.” 

“Many thanks, my Lord Fairbrook,” I made an¬ 
swer; “and should, as is more likely, General 
Washington drive your army into the sea, I shall 
hope that you and Major Tarlton will be able to 
swim.” 

They laughed at this, and soon afterward we 
separated, they going directly out of the house 
and I up to Val with my news. 

321 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


Once again we talked over all the details of our 
plan, searching for a weakness in it, but quite 
satisfied that on the whole Val was running little 
risk. What lay behind Rosalie’s move, we could 
in no wise fathom; but truth to tell, we were 
so much more interested in ourselves and the for¬ 
tunes that awaited us, that we gave little thought 
to our cousin, once having convinced ourselves 
that she meant no harm to us. 

As the appointed hour approached I went to 
Mrs. Brisket’s room to dress and laid out upon 
the bed a plain gown for Rosalie. Then before 
the mirror I arranged my hair and arrayed myself 
in my paduasoy to make myself look as much like 
my cousin as I could. I confess to having a lik¬ 
ing for this masquerade, and I fancied myself 
mightily with my hair piled high above my head, 
seeing that it made me look older, which is always 
pleasing to a young girl, though a silly vanity, I 
know. But I stood awhile after all was done, re¬ 
garding myself in the mirror, not so much for 
pride’s sake, but rather in surprise that I did in¬ 
deed appear so much like my modish cousin. It 
gave me a strange sense of unreality to see my 
reflection looking so vastly different from the one 

322 


THE CLASH OF SWORDS 

I was accustomed to gaze on, and yet withal so 
like me. 

I went to exhibit my finery to Val, who was 
quite amazed at my appearance. 

“I vow, Patty, I should have taken you for 
Rosalie did I not know that it was you!” he said, 
looking at me earnestly as he were not sure even 
then. “Indeed, it would be hard for any one 
meeting you together to say which was which.” 

“And you must play the dashing British gallant 
and hand me into my coach, sir,” I said, holding 
high my head. 

“I vow, mistress, you shall find no fault with 
my manners,” he said, with a deep bow and a 
hand upon his heart, aping to the life the exag¬ 
gerated fashion of the British dandies. I have 
often thought since with wonder on how light¬ 
hearted we were during those slow passing min¬ 
utes we spent waiting for the hour when we should 
put our plans to the test and risk at least one life 
in the accomplishment of them. I was not in¬ 
sensible to the seriousness of our situation, but 
was wrought to a high pitch of excitement at the 
prospect of our adventure. It was this, I fancy, 
that upheld me. 


323 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


And at length the time for action. It lacked but 
a few minutes of the appointed hour, and I went 
to see if all was well below. 

On my way downstairs I noted that the door 
to the room where our two guests slept stood open 
and that neither was within. Their office on the 
first floor was empty also, and I ran back to Val 
with the news that the coast was clear. 

Then I hurried down again, ready to warn him 
if anything untoward should happen, and he went 
into the officers’ room to seek what he wanted, we 
thinking it not unfair in war to take from our 
enemy what we might need. I had not been three 
minutes in the hall when I heard Val call down 
from the top of the stairs that he had what he 
needed. 

At that moment, however, there came a quick, 
running footfall on the step outside, and, think¬ 
ing it must be Rosalie, I threw wide the door. 
To my astonishment and chagrin, Lord Fairbrook 
entered hurriedly. His eyes opened as he saw me, 
and with a murmured, “Miss Rosalie,” uttered 
in a tone of great surprise, he glanced past me to 
the stairs. 


324 


THE CLASH OF SWORDS 


“And who is this/’ he cried; “half soldier and 
half Quaker ?” 

I turned and saw Val standing there with a 
British cap upon his head and a cloak across his 
arm. In his hand he carried a sword, and I saw 
a smile play around his lips as he turned and ran 
up the stairs. 

But Lord Fairbrook was to show some of the 
soldierly qualities which his manner so often 
belied. As quick as a flash he had drawn his 
sword and hurried after Val. So quick was he 
that my brother was but a few paces ahead of 
him when his lordship reached the top. Nor was 
I far behind them, for some instinct had driven 
me to follow. 

As I came upon the landing I saw that Val 
had run into my uncle’s room at the front of the 
house and that Lord Fairbrook was close upon 
his heels. 

“Yield, spy; you are my prisoner!” cried his 
lordship. 

“First you must take me, sir,” Val answered, 
his voice gay, as it always was when danger was 
to be faced. 


325 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“Nay, I have no wish to kill you/’ Lord Fair- 
brook declared, stepping into the room. 

“You ’ll have me no other way,” Val retorted. 

“Then we’ll lock the door. ’Twill fit with 
both our humors,” his lordship said, growing cool 
on the instant; and ere I could stay him, he had 
closed the door and I heard the key click as it 
turned. 

“Once more, sir, I bid you yield yourself 
my prisoner,” Lord Fairbrook called; but for 
answer there came the sharp clash of meet¬ 
ing swords, and I buried my face in my hands. 

It is beyond my power to describe my feelings 
as I stood without that door, straining my ears to 
catch a sound that would tell me how the fight 
went, but hearing naught save the ring of steel on 
steel as the two battled furiously within. Of a 
sudden Lord Fairbrook gave an exclamation of 
surprise, and I knew he had found my brother’s 
wrist more supple than he had expected. 

“A pretty Quaker!” he cried, as they began 
again. But from Val I heard no word. 

Under the ring and hiss of the swords, I dis¬ 
tinguished the light steps of the fencers as they 

326 


THE CLASH OF SWORDS 


moved from place to place about the room. Once 
there came a dull thud as if a chair were over¬ 
turned. Again, came the crash of what I 
thought must be a table; but there was no cessa¬ 
tion of the rasp of the blades. As the struggle 
lengthened, the panting of one or other of them, 
I knew not which, was plainly audible, and again, 
as they drew near the door, a sort of gasping sob 
reached my ears; but I could not tell whether it 
came from Val or his opponent. 

Oh, the agony of those minutes outside that 
door! For a time I was well nigh crazed and 
cried out to them, vainly imploring them to cease; 
but whether they heard me, I know not. The 
battle raged as if there were no others living in 
the world but just those two who were fighting 
for their lives, with all else in the universe for¬ 
gotten. Again there was the shock of an over¬ 
turned piece of furniture, followed by the quick 
sound of running feet across the floor; but not 
for an instant did the sword-play cease. 

At length, beside myself, I seized the handle 
of the door and shook it. 

“Stop!” I cried. “Stop! Stop! Stop!” 

327 


But 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

I might as well have shouted against the wind 
for all the heed they gave me. And I stood help¬ 
less, wringing my hands. 

“What is it?” The words were spoken in my 
ear, and I looked up to find Rosalie beside me. 

“ ’T is Val and—” 

“Is he still here?” she broke in. 

“Aye, he ’s fighting with Lord Fairbrook in 
there,” I gasped out. 

“Fairbrook—the best sword in the British 
army,” she murmured, her face paling; but I 
think at the moment that she had forgot that I 
was there. 

“Oh, Rosalie,” I burst out in despair, “Val will 
be killed and I can do naught!” 

She put an arm about me and I hid my face on 
her shoulder, while behind that locked door the 
duel went on with unbated fury. 

“Yield, sir, and I ’ll spare you!” It was Lord 
Fairbrook who shouted above the din they made. 

“Never,” Val answered; but the word was half 
sobbed out, as if there was little breath behind it. 

Then of a sudden there came the crash of a 
falling body, followed by an appalling silence. 

328 


THE CLASH OF SWORDS 


It was ended. One or other of them was dead. 
But who had won? I pressed my hand to my 
heart, fearing that it would burst with the sus¬ 
pense. Then we heard the sound of quick foot¬ 
steps and the key was turned in the lock. 




329 




CHAPTER XXII 


I CROSS THE FERRY 


HE door opened, after what seemed an in- 



terminable time, and Val came out. He 
was pale and breathing in short, quick gasps; but 
he was safe, and oh, with what a thankful heart 
I gazed at him! There was time for naught but 
action then, and my glimpse through the door of 
Lord Fairbrook lying on the floor of the room an¬ 
swered the questions I might have asked. 

“Ah, you ’re here, Rosalie,” Val whispered, as 
he saw her beside me. “Then we’d better be off 
at once. Come, Patty.” He moved toward the 
head of the stairs and I stepped beside him. 

“Where are you going, Val?” Rosalie de¬ 
manded. 

“With Patty,” he answered. 

“Nay, you cannot go!” Rosalie answered. 
“ ’T is safe for Patty, but not for you.” 

“Then,” said I, “’t is impossible that I should 


330 


I CROSS THE FERRY 


leave Val till he is upon his way. I was to signal 
the moment for him to climb the garden wall.” 

“I can do that as well as you,” Rosalie said. 
“I shall be Patty Abbott while you are Rosalie 
Roberts. Go, go, I beg of you, Patty. There 
is no time to be lost. You should have taken my 
place ere this.” She seized my arm and tried 
to lead me to the top of the stairs. But I held 
back, not liking the matter and being set mightily 
against leaving Val. 

“No!” I cried half wildly,“I cannot go until I 
see Val on his way.” 

“Patty, listen,” Rosalie replied, and there was 
a sharp ring of authority in her voice very dif¬ 
ferent from the languid tone usual with her. “I 
know not how many British officers saw me come 
hither. I passed several upon the streets. They 
may follow, in order to meet me here, and then 
we can none of us get away. Do you not under¬ 
stand that they must see me leave when you take 
the coach? ’T is no light matter that hangs on 
this.” 

“You must go, Patty, at once,” Val insisted; 
and I too appreciated Rosalie’s argument. 

“I will go,” I said, and started for the stairs. 

331 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“Here is the pass.” Rosalie handed me a 
paper. “Where is the dress I am to wear?” 

“In Mrs. Brisket’s room. Val can tell you,” I 
answered, and descended the stairs. 

I walked out of the house with no appearance 
of haste. If any watched, I wanted them to be 
sure to see me and so make certain in their own 
minds that Rosalie had gone away. And, sure 
enough, across the street stood a shabby fellow 
who looked at me with a wizzened face that was 
somehow familiar. With a start, I remembered 
him as the man who had spoken to me in the 
park one day about the tree upon which e. p. u. 
was wont to post his news. Could it be that I 
had been spied upon all these weeks ? The 
thought of it frightened me, but I tried to show 
no sign of perturbation and moved to the coach 
with every appearance of serenity. 

The coachman looked down at me, but I heeded 
him not, knowing that he had received his instruc¬ 
tions, and so entered the carriage. We started 
immediately, and in a few moments had left the 
house behind us and turned up Chestnut Street 
in the direction of the Governor’s Woods. 

It was a long time ere I could settle my feel- 

332 


I CROSS THE FERRY 


ings and review my situation with anything ap¬ 
proaching a calm spirit. So much had happened 
in those few minutes since Val had left his room 
that I seemed to have lived ages, without a pause 
in which to think. Events had followed so closely, 
one upon another, that my brain was in a whirl, 
and it took all my will to bring my thoughts to 
bear upon what had passed and upon the sig¬ 
nificance it held for me and those I cared for. 

I was by no means certain that I should have 
left Val as I did. My action had been forced by 
Rosalie. I had been obliged to leave him to her 
mercy and—she was a Tory! The more I 
thought of it, the more anxious I became. Could 
it be all a trick to capture my brother ? Why had 
Lord Fairbrook returned to the house at the 
moment set for Val’s escape? He and Rosalie 
were close friends, I knew, both because I had 
seen them together and from much gossip that 
had come to my ears. It would be very easy for 
Rosalie to have set the trap and warned his 
lordship in time to have him gain the credit for 
having captured a rebel spy. 

And yet, why had she wished me to assume the 
part I was at that moment playing? Surely the 

333 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


plan was too elaborate, if the only intention be¬ 
hind it was to capture Val, for, knowing he was 
there,—if she had known it,—he was at her 
mercy. 

At times I doubted her. At others I felt 
certain that Rosalie was honest with us. Again, 
I thought of Aunt Augusta, and wondered that 
I could have let myself be persuaded to do what 
I was doing and so perchance further a Tory plot 
against the cause I loved. 

Nor could I fail to feel a deep regret for the 
fate that had befallen Lord Fairbrook. To be 
sure, he was an enemy, but so light-hearted and 
courageous an enemy that I scarce realized that 
he was other than a friend. I said, in mv 
thoughts, that I should miss him at the table, 
then recollected, of a sudden, that I was not like 
to be there myself for a long time. 

And all the while I was half conscious of people 
on the streets and bright uniforms passing. 
That I was observed was certain, for even with 
but half my mind upon the scene outside the coach, 
I was aware that now and then some person of 
quality bowed to me, and mechanically I had bent 
my head in answer to them. Once, when the 

334 


I CROSS THE FERRY 


coach nigh stopped because of the badness of the 
roadway, a gay young officer came out to meet 
it. That he knew Rosalie well was evident, and 
my heart was in a flutter lest he should guess the 
deception and so betray me. 

“ ’Pon honor, Mistress Rosalie, I could not see 
that empty place beside you and not beg you to 
let me fill it,” he cried, giving me a fine bow. 

“ *T is already bespoke, sir,” I said, fearing 
mightily he would see that I was not the Mistress 
Rosalie he thought to address. 

“ ‘Sir?’ ” he echoed in surprise. “ ’T was plain 
‘Jack’ at the ball last night; but I’ll not spoil 
sport,” he cried gaily. “ ’T is a lucky dog that 
fills the place beside you, scarce deserving his 
fortune were he the king himself.” 

To my great relief he stepped aside and the 
coach went on. I dared not look back, but I 
did not doubt he stared after me, wondering per¬ 
chance why the merry Rosalie was in such a sober 
mood. 

We reached the outskirts of the Governor’s 
Woods and once more, at sight of it, my thoughts 
turned to Val. I plagued myself anew, trying to 
decide whether I could not have done something 

335 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


otherwise than I had and escaped deserting him. 

“I might have sent Rosalie back to her own 
coach!” I murmured to myself, as the thought 
popped into my mind. “That is what I should 
have done.” But now it was too late, and I could 
only hope that my fears and doubts of Rosalie 
were without foundation and that she would prove 
no enemy to us, but a friend. 

So far all had turned out as planned, but it 
was not until we reached the British lines at the 
Middle Ferry that I anticipated any real trou¬ 
ble. There I should discover whether my cousin 
had played me false and the pass I still held in 
my hand was but a piece of useless paper, de¬ 
signed to get me out of the way for a time. 
Should they turn me back, I should know for cer¬ 
tain that Rosalie had betrayed us. 

We came at last to the river and were halted by 
the guard. I showed him my paper with a fast¬ 
beating heart and heard him call for an officer, 
who, after reading it, nodded and gave the pass 
back. 

“You may go on, Mistress Roberts,” he said 
politely, and, with a word to the coachman, left 
us to our own devices. 

336 


I CROSS THE FERRY 


We were forced to wait for the ferry to carry 
us over, but the readiness with which the British 
soldiers had recognized the authority of the pass 
gave me courage to believe that all went well in 
spite of my forebodings. I felt myself justified 
in thinking that, if indeed Rosalie were true in 
one thing, she would be true in all; and when at 
last we were across the Schuylkill I grew a little 
excited at the thought that here I was at last 
embarked upon a project that was, in truth, of 
service to my country, and my only regret lay in 
the fact that I had not been able to say good-by 
to Uncle John. 

The coachman had evidently been ordered to 
drive straight on till I gave him other orders, and 
this suited me for the first mile or so; then I 
should tell him to turn to the north, and we should 
win to the house of David Llewellyn, of whom 
Val had told me. So satisfied was I that my ad¬ 
venture would be successful that my spirits rose 
and I found myself looking forward eagerly to 
the progress of my journey; but we had scarce 
gone half a mile from the river when around a 
bend in the road we came upon three British 
troopers stretched across our path. 

337 




A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“Halt!” cried one in command, whom I guessed 
to be a sergeant. 

The coach drew up sharply, but I feared 
naught, having my pass, which I held up to the 
horseman who rode to my side. 

“ 'T is a safe-conduct, sir,” I said evenly. 

He took it and read it through quickly. 

“Mistress Rosalie Roberts,” he repeated, glanc¬ 
ing at the name. “This is the one. Coachman, 
turn around and drive back. We shall be behind 
you!” 

“But, sir,” I broke out. “I do not wish to go 
back.” 

“That is hardly a matter for you to decide, 
miss,” he replied, a trifle gruffly. 

“But I have a pass,” I repeated. 

“Aye, ’t is the one carrying that pass we were 
ordered to arrest,” he retorted. “About with 
you,” he went on to the coachman, “and make 
your horses step out. We are in a hurry to be 
within the city.” 

I had been tricked after all. Rosalie had 
wanted to be rid of me for an hour or so, and 
then saw to it that I should be brought back. 
Bitter tears came to my eyes; but they sprang 

338 


I CROSS THE FERRY 


from the anger I felt at this false relative who 
could treat one of her blood so treacherously. 
And if I were taken, what would be Val’s fate? 
How could the gold at Trenton ever reach our 
army? ’T was all I could do not to burst out 
crying with chagrin and disappointment. 


339 


CHAPTER XXIII 


SIR WILLIAM SPEAKS 

M UCH of what passed on the ride back to 
the city has quite escaped my memory. I 
(doubt that I was at all aware of my surroundings, 
so distressed was I by the certainty of Val’s fate 
and the treachery of Rosalie that I could think 
of naught else. I was fair distracted between my 
fear of what might happen to my brother and the 
hot anger I felt toward my cousin. It was, in 
truth, as she had said, a matter of life and death, 
but’t was Val’s life that hung in the balance, not 
her own, as she had wished me to believe. She 
had made me an instrument in his capture, and 
I could see no hope for mercy from the British 
when I remembered what had happened to Nathan 
Hale, who had died so bravely in New York. 

And in all this I could detect a sordid motive. 
Aunt Augusta had shown herself eager to seize 
Springhill, and, to further her scheme, meant to 

340 


/ 

SIR WILLIAM SPEAKS 

show us as actively aiding the struggling colonies. 
Were Val hanged as a spy, there would be one 
less heir to protest her claim to our estate, and 
I doubted not she had arranged that I should not 
trouble her, either. Then there was Uncle Joints 
wealth and the old Abbott house that must pass 
some day, and Aunt Augusta was one to plan in 
time that this inheritance also should come to 
Rosalie. In all this I could see plainly the rea¬ 
son for the constant pressure against us, and ac¬ 
count for the bitter enmity the Roberts had shown 
our family. And now my cousin, who had won 
my love and for whom I had been ready to find 
excuses in my heart, had joined her mother to 
play a most despicable part to win a fortune. 

What was to become of me I scarce considered. 
1 could not believe that I was in any personal 
danger, so far as the British were concerned. I 
had not spied upon them, and, though they might 
imprison me for attempting to leave the city 
against their orders and under a false passport, 
still I could not think they would treat me very 
severely on that account. True, Lord Fairbrook 
was dead, but they would scarce accuse a girl 
of encountering such a swordsman. ’T was not 

34i 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


the British officers I feared, 't was Aunt Augusta, 
for what she might do an she were given the 
power, I could not determine, seeing that she 
would stop at naught to attain her ends. 

I came to a realization of my surroundings 
when the coach halted at the order of the guard 
and I looked out to find that we had stopped at a 
fine mansion, before which a sentry paced back 
and forth. I recognized it at once as the house in 
which Sir William Howe was living, and I knew 
that I was to be taken before the commander of 
the British forces. I was bidden to alight, and 
once out of the coach, the sergeant led me within 
without delay. Several men in uniform were 
standing about, and there was a deal of saluting; 
but we were evidently expected, and I was shown 
into a small back room which communicated with 
a large one at the front of the house by means of 
mahogany doors, one leaf of which stood ajar. 

My guide told me to sit, and then remained 
beside me at attention. 

Through the open doorway I heard voices 
which, when I had settled myself and recovered a 
little from my confusion, came to me clear and 
plain. 


342 


SIR WILLIAM SPEAKS 


“And I tell you, Sir William, that the whole 
tale is false!” said a female voice, which I at once 
recognized as that of my Aunt Augusta. This 
was no great surprise. I had anticipated that 
she would be there to see to my punishment, and 
all my previous suspicions were at once confirmed. 

“Nay, madam,” came the answer, and I recog¬ 
nized Major Tarlton speaking, “I can show you 
good proof of what I say. Indeed, we have the 
farmer who was her go between.” 

“But ’t is absurd, sir,” said Aunt Augusta vio¬ 
lently. “Absurd! Major Tarlton seeks an easy 
way to repair his reputation for astuteness. 
Surely, Sir William, you do not believe any such 
dished-up tale as this.” 

A man made answer, and I was certain that 
this must be the British commander. 

“And why should I not, Madam Roberts?” he 
returned, in any but a genial voice. “Major 
Tarlton has convinced me that what he says is 
true. And let me tell you, Madam, punishment 
shall be meted out as it deserves. Think you I 
shall be complacent, seeing what has happened? 
Nay, madam, hanging were none too much!” 

My heart sank like lead. What had I done to 

343 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


deserve hanging? It must be that my aunt had 
invented some tale about me and made pretense 
of defending me, that she might not be thought 
an unnatural relative. 

“Sir William, ,, she now replied, “Major Tarl- 
ton seeks any palliation of his clumsy errors. As 
far back as last June he bungled our plan to 
capture Washington, and at the same time he lost 
the secret message concerning the gold at Tren¬ 
ton. Since then, he has sought vainly to find an 
excuse for his stupidity, and so hits on this false 
accusation. I tell you, Sir William, it is not to 
be credited. It is impossible of belief, no matter 
what seeming evidence Major Tarlton may have 
gathered together to bolster his trumpery charge.” 

“Enough, madam, enough!” came the voice of 
Sir William, angrily. “Think not to avoid the 
issue by abusing Major Tarlton, in whom, I tell 
you plainly, I have every confidence. In the mat¬ 
ter you speak of, which occurred last June, what 
were the facts? The plan was known to those 
in your household and two of my officers. Think 
you ’t was one of these gentlemen who betrayed 
us?” 

“They ’re famous gossips, like enough to talk, 

344 


SIR WILLIAM SPEAKS 

sir , 9 my aunt answered, with no lack of spirit. 

“Aye, but they had no chance, madam,” he de¬ 
clared. “The plot was hatched in your house. 
It was your own scheme. How you learned of 
Mr. Washington's movements, I know not; but 
he was warned, madam, and that warning could 
have come but from one source.” 

“There is no proof that he was warned, Sir 
William,” my aunt answered. “It might easily 
be that he changed his plans and decided not to 
go into Philadelphia by the Gloucester road. But 
if indeed he were warned, that warning served 
him ill, for Major Tarlton came up with the rebel 
general and let him slip through his fingers. Are 
we to be blamed that your orders are badly exe¬ 
cuted? Is that a reason for shouting traitor and 
spy? Nay, sir, rather is it a cause for sending 
this fine major back to England in disgrace.” 

“But that was only the beginning of the busi¬ 
ness, madam,” Tarlton’s voice now broke in ir¬ 
ritably. “There has not been one matter upon 
which we have set our hearts that has not in some 
way gone astray when you were cognizant of it. 
All through the winter—” 

“Aye,” Sir William’s voice took up the tale. 

345 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“All this winter what has happened? I have 
caused certain news to be spread abroad to the 
end that these stiff-necked rebels should lose 
heart; and to confound my plans, the truth is hung 
upon the very trees. We would have it believed 
that General Washington lost his army at Ger¬ 
mantown. We noised it about that he was dead. 
We hid the news of General Burgoyne’s surren¬ 
der at Saratoga and of the treaty Dr. Franklin 
made with the French. To what end, madam? 
The truth was posted in the park for all to see. 
On the heels of any event that would keep the 
rebels of the city in good cheer, came word of it, 
in spite of our best endeavors. Again and again 
warnings have been sent of our plans, and secrets 
that have been known to but three or four have 
reached our enemies ere we could strike. In all 
these cases, madam, the facts were in your hands 
and we were betrayed.” 

“Do you accuse me, Sir William Howe?” cried 
my aunt, at the top of her voice. “Shame upon 
you, sir! When you know I have risked all that 
I have out of loyalty to the king!” And although 
I could not see her, I could fancy that she shook 
her stick in his face. 


346 


SIR WILLIAM SPEAKS 


"I say not, madam, that you personally are re¬ 
sponsible,” General Howe answered. “If I 
thought that, I would not waste words on you. 
But we know who this person is who signs 
E. P. U. to the communications that have upheld 
the spirit of the city, and we mean to deal out 
justice regardless of where it strikes.” 

For a moment, by reason of my wonderment, 
I lost what was being said. Could it be that they 
believed that I was E. P. U.? I could have 
laughed aloud at the thought, certain in my own 
mind that they were all astray and that the angry 
words they were exchanging were but a tempest 
in a tea-pot, seeing that it must quickly be made 
plain to them that I could have naught to do with 
such deep scheming. 

“Listen, madam,” Major Tarlton cut in, “for 
long I have suspected who this E. P. U. is, and 
have seen to it that the person was watched; but 
the proofs were not easy come by. At length, 
however, certain circumstances seemed to point 
to a secret connection between your house and the 
one in which I live. Your daughter, madam, was 
far to deeply interested in the fortunes of my 
young hostess. You will remember her pleading 

347 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


to have the guards removed. Well, that and 
other occurrences set me thinking, and at length, 
—a day or two ago, in fact,—I let it slip out that 
the young lady was under suspicion, to see what 
action Miss Rosalie would take. What I ex¬ 
pected came to pass. An application was made 
for a pass through our lines, and permission was 
given by a certain route, over the Middle Ferry, 
in fact. To-day it was to be used, was used, in¬ 
deed; but never for a moment was the lady out 
of sight of my men. And when she crossed the 
ferry and there was no doubt she was trying to 
effect her escape, she was brought back. Doubt¬ 
less, madam, you will agree that something is 
amiss when Miss Rosalie Roberts tries to flee the 
city.” 

“I do not believe any such tale!” cried my Aunt 
Augusta, while I sat in a daze, slowly realizing 
the revelation that was shaping itself in my mind. 
Rosalie was the one sought! She was E. P. U.! 
She had not been false to us, but, in a desperate 
need, had asked our help; and now how glad I 
was that I had given it. But I had no time then 
for reflection. 


348 


SIR WILLIAM SPEAKS 


“Would you believe it were I to bring Mistress 
Rosalie here?” the major asked coolly. 

“But she never tried to leave the city,” Aunt 
Augusta insisted. “ ’T is some trick you are 
playing.” 

Major Tarlton stepped to the door, glanced in 
at me, and then beckoned the sergeant to accom¬ 
pany him. 

“Here is the soldier who arrested your 
daughter, madam,” I heard him say, as the two 
stepped beyond my sight. “Sergeant, did you 
stop a coach a mile the other side of the Middle 
Ferrv?” 

“Yes, sir,” came the answer. 

“And was there a young lady in the coach?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Did she have a pass numbered 360 permitting 
her to go through the lines?” 

“Here it is, sir,” the sergeant answered, and I 
heard the rustle of a paper as it changed hands. 
“I took it from the young lady myself, sir.” 

“And where is she now, sergeant?” 

“In the next room, sir.” 

“Rosalie in there!” cried my aunt. “No, no, 

349 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


no. It cannot be!” I heard her limp toward the 
door and I rose to my feet. 

She came rushing into the room, Sir William 
Howe and Major Tarlton behind her, and for a 
space she, too, was deceived and stood speechless, 
believing me to be her daughter. 

“Rosalie!” she cried at last in an imploring 
voice, “tell me that they speak falsely. That you 
are no spy, nor traitor to your king!” Then 
waited, evidently expecting me to speak, but I 
had naught to say and held my peace. 

“I take it you are convinced, madam,” Major 
Tarlton said evenly. 

“And as to you, miss,” Sir William Howe was 
addressing me angrily, “think not to escape your 
responsibility because you are a maid. No, no! 
I 'll see to it that you are punished as you deserve. 

' Spy r 

Something about me had drawn Aunt Au¬ 
gusta’s eye, and, as Sir William finished his 
threat, she burst into a loud peal of laughter, 
covering her very real relief. 

“That is not my daughter!” she exclaimed. 
“Out of this pretty kettle of fish you have netted 

350 


SIR WILLIAM SPEAKS 


my rebel niece. That girl is Patty Abbott. Call 
her spy, an you like; I ’ll not deny it.” 

“’Tis impossible!” cried Major Tarlton; but 
he looked closely at me, and I could not avoid a 
smile nor hide the merriment in my eyes. So 
he, too, knew me and realized the mistake that 
had been made. 

‘‘Who are you, miss?” demanded Sir William. 

“I am Patty Abbott, sir,” I replied. 

“We’ve been fooled!” Major Tarlton shouted. 
“How came you by that pass, Miss Patty?” 

“ ’T was given me by my cousin, sir,” I said. 

“Why should you need a pass?” he asked. 

“To leave the city with,” I answered promptly. 
“My brother is an officer in General Washington’s 
army.” 

“And what happened to Mistress Rosalie 
Roberts ?” 

“That I do not know, sir,” I declared truth¬ 
fully, though I hoped that I might make a good 
guess. “Have you inquired for her at her 
home?” 

No notice of this question was taken, which, 
indeed was only intended to be annoying, and the 

351 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


inquisition might have continued farther had we 
not been startled by Lord Fairbrook, who burst 
into the room, seeming as well as ever and very 
far from dead, as I had thought him. He saw 
me and stopped abruptly, giving scant attention 
to the others. 

“So here is where you are, Miss Rosalie,” he 
cried. “A pretty business, upon my word. 
Where ’s the Quaker ?” 

I was glad that his lordship was not dead, but 
I was by no means wishful to have him question 
me too closely about the events before and after 
his fight with Val, so I hurried to answer him. 

“What Quaker do you speak of, Lord Fair- 
brook?” I inquired indifferently, so that I sounded 
much like my cousin in my own ears. 

“But you were there, Miss Rosalie.” 

“I ’m not Rosalie Roberts, but Patty Abbott, 
sir,” I assured him, at which his face changed 
laughably, and his eyes widened. 

“ ’T is all too true, Algernon,” Major Tarlton 
informed him. “We were all befooled by this 
likeness; but what has happened to you?” 

“ Tore gad, I’m not sure I know,” his lord- 

352 


SIR WILLIAM SPEAKS 

ship began. “Being splashed at a crossing, I 
went back to the house of a sudden to change my 
coat, and Miss Rosalie opened the door for me, 
most polite and gracious. But on the stairs stood 
a Quaker, with a British hat on his head, egad, 
a cloak over his arm and, would you believe it? 
a sword in his hand. ‘A pretty Quaker!’ thinks 
I, and, pulling out my own weapon, up I go after 
him, he having started back at sight of me. He 
whips into a room and I follow, bidding him yield. 
But no, this Quaker is all for fighting, and so 
we ’re at it hammer and tongs. You should have 
felt his wrist. Like iron—and a Quaker! We 
fought all over the room, and I was besting him 
when, as luck would have it, I tripped over a fallen 
chair, bumped my head, and knew naught more 
for I can’t say how long. When I came to myself, 
the Quaker was gone and Miss Rosalie also. 
That’s my story, and, instead of a spy captured, 
I ’ve naught to show but a broken head.” 

Now Lord Fairbrook told his story with so 
humorous a manner, and with a face so woe¬ 
begone, that all, save Aunt Augusta, burst out 
laughing. 


353 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“Egad! you may laugh,” he cried; “but had 
you had my luck and my broken head to boot, 
you’d be more like to weep.” 

“And, while we laugh, the girl is escaping the 
city!” Sir William exclaimed suddenly. “Go, 
Tarlton, and order the roads closed. See that 
the lines are drawn tight and let no one out. We 
must have her. Fairbrook, are you fit for duty?” 

“Aye, Sir William, and I’d like well the chance 
to come up with that Quaker again,” was the 
ready answer. “He could fight, I ’ll say that for 
him; yet, an it hadn’t been for that chair I 
stumbled on, he’d have been a prisoner and well 
on his way to the gallows.” 

“Then go with Tarlton and see to it that the 
girl and the spy you talk of are caught,” was the 
order; and the two gentlemen saluted and left on 
the run. 

“And now, madam,” said Sir William, turning 
on my aunt, “I think hereafter we shall carry on 
this little war without your help. Good day to 
you.” 

Aunt Augusta threw up her head and showed 
not at all that she was beaten. 

“I shall find my daughter at home, Sir William, 

354 


SIR WILLIAM SPEAKS 


and shall expect ample apology for the treatment 
I have received at your hands. Give you good 
day, sir.” She curtsied and left the room with 
her head held high. I must say that she carried it 
off with spirit; but from a glimpse I had of her 
face, I think she knew that she would not find 
Rosalie when she arrived at her house. 

For a moment or two Sir William stood looking 
thoughtfully at the floor, then he lifted his head 
and regarded me. Our eyes met, and though 
there was a gleam of understanding to be read in 
his glance, I was still upon my guard. 

“Well, miss,” he said, at length, “what is to 
be done with you?” 

“Indeed, Sir William,” I returned, “seeing that 
I am here against my will, and for no cause, and 
find myself unwelcome, perchance I’d better be 
going.” 

A smile twitched the corners of his mouth; but 
he frowned severely. 

“You know you attempted to leave the city 
against my special orders?” he suggested. “We 
cannot allow our authority to be treated with con¬ 
tempt, miss.” 

“Nay, Sir William, no one told me you wished 

355 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


me to stay,” I replied meekly. “I knew not that 
you gave a thought to my existence.” 

“Oh, did you not?” he retorted, laughing out¬ 
right. “You rebel ladies are far too innocent 
and clever. Had you won to your brother in Mr. 
Washington’s army, you would have told no 
secrets of our forces. Oh no!” 

“Seeing that I know naught of them, Sir 
William, how could I?” I answered; and for once 
I set a lock upon my tongue, for I longed to say, 
but did not, that I would get small thanks for 
stale news, anyhow. 

“Well,” he said, after a moment, “I cannot hold 
you prisoner for looking like your cousin, so run 
along home with you. I have my own notions 
of what went on, but I think we need not talk of 
them, seeing that they are but—notions! So off 
with you, Miss Patty.” 

“Thank you, Sir William,” I answered, and 
made him the best curtsy of which I was capable. 

He smiled and bowed very low, with his hand 
upon his heart. A moment later I was out of 
the house and hurrying back to Front Street, 
wondering if I should hear aught of Rosalie or 
Val there. 


356 



Nay, Sii William, no one told me you wished me to stay” 


' 




























CHAPTER XXIV 


E PLURIBUS UNUM 

TT was several weeks, however, before I knew 
definitely that Val and Rosalie had escaped 
through the British lines; but for some strange 
reason I had never been in doubt of their safety. 

As the days passed and no mention of the mat¬ 
ter was made by either Major Tarlton or Lord 
Fairbrook, my feeling of certainty grew, for, had 
they been captured, I should have had word of it 
from one or other of our guests. But they came 
and went as before, and the scene at Sir William’s 
was never referred to. 

Then one evening in June, the sixteenth, to be 
exact, Major Tarlton called me in his office and, 
to my surprise, I saw a soldier busy packing pa¬ 
pers and books in boxes and there was an air of 
hasty preparation being pushed forward. 

“What is it?” I asked, looking about me. 

357 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


“.Can you keep a secret for a day ?” Major Tarl- 
ton asked with a smile. 

“If I must, I think you know I can,” I an¬ 
swered. 

“You must if you wish to know what is going 
on,” he returned lightly. 

“Then I will,” I replied, “being very curious.” 

And he told me that the British army was going 
away early the next morning and that Phila¬ 
delphia would at last be free of the enemy. 

“But *t is only for a time, Miss Patty,” he 
ended. “We shall be back when the war is over.” 

“And in Boston, too, doubtless, but only as 
guests of the United States of America, Major 
Tarlton,” I answered, with a fine air of triumph; 
for it seemed to me that the departure of the Brit¬ 
ish from our capital must herald our winning of 
the war, I little guessed how much longer it was 
fated to drag on. 

“Nay, be not too sure of that,” the major said 
with a laugh. “We shall have a general soon who 
will not be content to sit still. But enough of 
that. J T is of something personal I wish to talk. 
Think you it is possible to forget that we are en¬ 
emies for five minutes?” 

358 


E PLURIBUS UNUM 


“If you but wore another uniform, Major Tarl- 
ton, I should be glad to be friends forever/’ I told 
him. 

“Ah, but that cannot be/’ he returned. “Still, 
for five minutes, let us pretend that I wear no uni¬ 
form and that one who has been a guest in this 
house, no matter how unwelcome, would like to 
say thank you for the hospitality he has received.” 

Now it was true that Major Tarlton and Lord 
Fairbrook had had it in their power to make their 
stay in Front Street much less pleasant than it 
had been. Never for a moment had they been 
aught but considerate of our feelings and con¬ 
venience. They had not presumed to order any of 
us about, and, in so far as was possible in the cir¬ 
cumstances, they had acted with scrupulous re¬ 
gard for our comfort. Besides, they had shielded 
us from much of the annoyance that other patriots 
had suffered from the overcrowding of their 
homes. For that I was grateful, and told Major 
Tarlton that we were sincerely appreciative of his 
thoughtfulness. 

“If we were n’t enemies,” I said at the end, “I 
should be sorry you and Lord Fairbrook were go¬ 
ing away.” 


359 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

“Now that is kind,” he told me heartily, “and 
we shall always remember our stay in Phila¬ 
delphia, for I am sure that never again shall we 
find such pleasant surroundings in the colonies.” 

Long before we were up the next morning the 
British army had left Philadelphia, and there was 
great rejoicing among those who had suffered 
from the insolence of their Tory neighbors, these 
having in many cases treated them worse than had 
the enemy soldiery. I learned later that Aunt 
Augusta had been among the Tory gentry who 
had fled the city by ship, and when the opportun¬ 
ity came she sailed for England with Mr. Roberts. 

But on these things I dwelt little at the time, 
for, during the morning Val came clattering up 
to the house to assure us that all was well with 
him. 

“I can stop but a moment!” he cried. “We are 
searching the city for lazy redcoats and have 
found several already.” 

“But you can tell me how you and Rosalie fared 
and what has happened since you left me,” I in¬ 
sisted. “That at least you can do ere you go.” 

“Nothing did happen, really,” he answered. 
“Wilkinson took us through the lines without any 

360 


E PLURIBUS UNUM 


trouble. We crossed the river ere nightfall and 
left Rosalie with friends. She is now in Tren¬ 
ton, and the gold is already spent on our sol¬ 
diers.^” 

“Then you found it!” I cried delightedly. 

“Aye, in Peter Smith’s root-cellar,” he an¬ 
swered. “It was there, just as we guessed it 
would be. Now I must be off. I ’ll come back to 
dinner, an you ’ll have me. See to it it’s a good 
one. I’m as hungry as a bear.” 

“But what of Wilkinson?” I called after him. 

“He has his heart’s desire. He’s in our army,” 
came the answer. 

I told Uncle John about Val, not knowing ex¬ 
actly how he would relish the news that he had 
harbored an unknown guest, nor how he would 
receive another unbidden one. But I might have 
spared myself the pains. My uncle has lost much 
of his shyness and welcomed Val with a right 
good will. 

“I think, sir,” he said, with assumed gruffness, 
“that you are owing me a bill for board in this 
house.” 

“You shall have it, uncle, when I get my back 
pay,” Val answered laughingly. “I hope you 

361 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


don’t need it soon, sir, for there is no telling when 
I shall see coin again.” 

It was quite a gay meal, and I noticed that 
Uncle John liked Val at first sight. But to me 
he was the best of brothers, and I could not believe 
it possible for any one to do aught but like him. 

Toward the end of the meal my uncle asked a 
question that made my heart jump with pleasure, 
for I had cherished a secret wish and this seemed 
to hint at its fulfilment. 

"Know you ought of your father, my boy?” 
he inquired suddenly. 

“He should be here almost any time now,” Val 
answered. “I know not when he left France, 
but I’m sure he would not delay after he had 
finished his business. 

Nothing further was said. Uncle John went 
on with his meal, but that he should ask the ques¬ 
tion gave me courage to hope. 

A day or two later I was walking along Chest¬ 
nut Street, one of a cheering crowd of citizens 
who could not yet restrain their rejoicing that the 
enemy was gone, when my eyes were attracted by 
a man half a head taller than most of his fellows, 
shouldering his way toward me. A second glance 

362 


E PLURIBUS UNUM 


showed me that it was Father, and in another mo¬ 
ment I was in his arms, caring not who was there 
to see. 

“Father!” I cried, “Father, you are back safe 
and sound.” 

Tears were in my eyes, and he was too much 
moved for speech, but the pressure of his arms 
told of his joy at seeing me. 

“I went to look for you at your Aunt Au¬ 
gusta’s,” he said at length. “The house was 
closed, which left me somewhat troubled about 
you.” 

“Let us get out of the press,” I said, “and I ’ll 
tell you what has come to pass.” 

“Where are you living, Patty?” he asked a few 
moments later, when we were in a quieter street 
and could feel ourselves alone. 

“I’m at Uncle John’s,” I told him. 

He stopped short and looked at me as if he 
could n’t believe his ears. 

“What are you doing there?” he demanded, 
angrily frowning. 

“Aunt Augusta locked me in my room,” I be¬ 
gan, and, as we strolled along, I told him all that 
had befallen me from the night I left Springhill. 

363 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


He listened closely, asking a question now and 
then to clear a matter that puzzled him; but 
mostly he was silent, his face grave and inter¬ 
ested. 

“And so, Father, I found a home where I think 
I am loved, and I would that you would go there 
with me.” 

“Nay, I cannot enter that house, Patty,” he 
said almost violently. 

“But why?” 

“Because of what your uncle said many years 
ago.” 

“Did you hear him say it?” I asked. 

“Nay, your Aunt Augusta told me—” 

“But how do you know that my aunt told the 
truth?” I broke in. “Mrs. Brisket says Mistress 
Roberts was ever ready to make trouble between 
you and, seeing that she seized Springhill in your 
absence and showed herself no friend to you or 
yours, how can you still put trust in her?” 

He thought a moment, then, with a toss of his 
head, he turned. 

“Come,” he said, and together we walked to 
Front Street almost in silence. 

It was late in the afternoon when we reached 

364 


E PLURIBUS UNUM 

the house and, as I hoped, Uncle John was al¬ 
ready there. We went into the library and found 
him sitting in his usual chair with a book in his 
hand. At our entrance he looked up with a quick 
smile for me, but at sight of Father he lowered 
his head. 

For a full minute there was silence, and I trem¬ 
bled a little for the outcome, but at last Father 
spoke in a voice low with suppressed emotion. 

“John,” he began, “I vowed over twenty years 
ago never to set foot across the threshold of this 
house nor to speak to you. That vow I have 
broken, seeing that I owe you thanks for your care 
of Patty.” 

Uncle John kept his eyes upon the floor and 
for a moment there was no sound, while I feared 
that what I had most hoped for was not to be; 
but suddenly he raised his head and met Father’s 
glance. 

“Will,” he said, and his voice had a note of soft¬ 
ness in it that I had never heard, “you and I have 
been two fools, ready to believe all the lies that 
were told us by tale-bearers and ill-wishers; but 
what is past is past. Your daughter has brought 
a ray of sunshine into the house of a miserable 

365 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


old man and warmed it for him.” He rose sud¬ 
denly to his feet, his head held high. “For 
Patty’s sake, I would that we were friends again, 
and there’s my hand on it!” 

He held it out and Father grasped it eagerly. 
From my eyes the tears were falling fast as I 
watched these two strong men brought again to 
friendship and brotherly love; but it was no place 
for me. Without a word I slipped quietly away 
and left them to heal the wound kept open so many 
years. Only one thing was needed to make my 
happiness complete. I wanted to see Rosalie, and 
one bright day as I stood by the window she came 
along the street toward the house, and beside her, 
staggering under the weight of a portmantle, was 
the red-headed boy. 

I flew to the door to welcome her, and in a mo¬ 
ment she was in my arms. 

“Oh, Rosalie!” I cried, “I have so longed to see 
you!” 

She said nothing, but stood back to look at me, 
seeming a little timid. 

“Do you know?” she questioned shyly. 

“I know that you are E. P. U. and the best 

366 


E PLURIBUS UNUM 

friend I ever had/’ I exclaimed. “You ’re won¬ 
derful, Rosalie, and I am filled with shame that 
ever I doubted you.” 

She took me in her arms at that and gave me a 
huge hug. 

“Had you not doubted me, I should have 
thought myself a poor actress,” she returned with 
a laugh. “I wanted you to believe as you did. 
That is what every one believed, otherwise I 
should have been of small use. But you saved 
me, Patty. Major Tarlton nearly had me.” 
She laughed again. “Faith I should have liked 
well to have been there when he discovered that 
you were n’t me/’ 

I took her into the library while we talked and 
talked and talked. The boy sat watching us his 
eyes sparkling. 

“You see, Patty,” Rosalie explained, “I had 
a fine chance to know what was going on in the 
British army. Mother was full of it, and we had 
officers coming and going all the time; but the 
moment I was found out, my usefulness was 
ended.” 

“But, Rosalie, what made you send me that 

367 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

message to come here?” I demanded. “How 
could you know I was going to escape from your 
house?” 

“I had arranged all that,” she replied smiling. 
“Mrs. McDonald is n’t just what you think her. 
It was her niece’s husband who brought me news 
of what went on in our army. Little Barbary, 
her niece’s daughter—” 

“Yes, I know,” I interrupted. 

“Well, the little one carried the messages, and 
I had them posted here and there, so that all the 
city should learn the news.” 

“And Mrs. McDonald helped you?” I cried 
aghast. “Oh, I am sorry now that I pushed her 
so hard!” 

“So was she,” Rosalie said laughingly. “She 
would have let you slip out of the door without 
a protest; but it was much better as it was. She 
had a lame knee to show mother.” 

“Poor Mrs. McDonald,” I mourned. Then an¬ 
other question came into my mind, demanding an 
answer. “ ’T was you who searched my port- 
mantle?” 

“To be sure I did,” my cousin told me frankly. 
“I wanted to get that message, an I could, ere 

368 


E PLURIBUS UNUM 

Mother found it. I knew they would go to any 
length to obtain it, and I meant to be there first. 
But you had hid it too well.” 

Oh, Rosalie!” I cried, suddenly remembering; 
“Val said he met you on the street. Did you not 
recognize him?” 

a That I did, and I was greatly worried when 
I learned that they had set a guard on your 
house,” she replied. “I thought that he was har¬ 
bored there.” 

“And it was you who urged that the guards 
be taken away? You saved his life, Rosalie.” 
“He saved mine when he took me out of the 

/ 

city,” she said gaily; “besides, it was easy enough. 
I laughed at them for locking the stable door after 
the horse was stolen, for ’t was plain you had 
every chance to rid yourself of their bothersome 
message.” 

“Aye, had I had it,” I agreed. 

So we talked, and I asked a hundred questions to 
which I had already guessed the answers. 

“And it was this boy here, with the red hair, 
who ran your errands and posted up your mes¬ 
sages,” I said, finally. 

“Yes ; it was Jimmy/’ Rosalie replied. “No 

369 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 


one ever suspected him. And he’s a real patriot,” 
she added, giving the boy a smile. “He not only 
carried messages, but he learned a vast deal from 
the British.” 

“How was that possible?” I asked, much sur¬ 
prised at this statement. “Being deaf and dumb, 
I don’t see how he could find out aught of value.” 

I noted a meaning glance pass between my 
cousin and the boy, then, to my great amazement, 
Rosalie nodded and he looked at me. 

“But I can hear,” he announced, grinning 
broadly. 

“And you can speak!” I exclaimed, wide-eyed. 

“You see,” said Rosalie, “as everybody believed 
him deaf and dumb they were vastly careless what 
they said in his presence. Jimmy was always at 
hand to carry messages for the British officers and 
was quite a favorite at Sir William Howe’s head¬ 
quarters, where everybody petted him because 
they were sorry for his affliction. 

“Oh, I see,” I murmured, still scarce believ¬ 
ing what I had heard. “And was it you who 
came to Springhill to warn Mr. Washington 
against the Gloucester road?” 

“Oh yes, miss,” was the ready answer; “and I 

370 


E PLURIBUS UNUM 


was that startled to see you there in the kitchen 
I was like to forget I was dumb. I thought it 
was an empty room. I did n’t want anybody to 
see me, you understand.” 

“So Uncle John had no hand in the matter,” I 
said. 

“Did you suspect him?” Rosalie asked, greatly 
surprised. 

“Yes,” I told her. “He had such a good ex¬ 
planation of what E. P. U. stood for.” 

“He should have had,” she answered, “for it 
was his idea. He, my dear Patty, furnished the 
sinews of war. He paid the piper, though even 
he did not know those who did the work.” 

“Then he was always a patriot?” I asked. 

“One of the staunchest,” Rosalie declared. 

Again we talked and asked questions innumer¬ 
able till supper-time drew near and Uncle John 
walked into the house, to come upon us in the 
library. 

“Ah,” he said, at sight of Rosalie, “you have n’t 
left the town with your mother and the other 
Tory ladies, I see.” 

“Nay,” answered Rosalie, “for the British 
would n’t have me even if I wished to go—and our 

371 


A CONTINENTAL DOLLAR 

house is shut and Mrs. McDonald gone to her 
niece.” 

“So you stay here!” cried Uncle John. “Two 
girls are just twice as nice as one.” 

“Indeed they are!” I cried. 

“And where did this youngster come from and 
who is he?” Uncle John asked. 

Jimmy spoke for himself. 

“I? I come from here, there and everywhere. 
I’m what you might call E Pluribus Unum— 
E. P. U. sir!” 


6 15 4 . Of 


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